


The Surrogate

by TheJokersSenpai



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dress Maker! Marco, F/M, Genderfluid Character, Homophobic Slurs, M/M, Older Jean Kirstein, Older Marco Bott, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Surrogacy, Trans Male Character, but only like mid twenties
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-18
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-02-09 11:08:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 54,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1980675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheJokersSenpai/pseuds/TheJokersSenpai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco Bott has finally found his place in the world. He inherited his Grandmother's store, has two amazing friends who have supported him through his toughest times. Marco however didn't expect to meet Jean Kirstein a sophisticated sociopath with the mouth of a sailor and what Marco expected least was that, this is the man he wants to start a family with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys, surrogacy is a topic I think is important and I feel it's another option for both m/m and f/f couples who don't want to adopt a child and so here I am throwing all this pressure on my two babes Jean and Marco.
> 
> Also I'm also writing a connected fic from Ymir's perspective, so that y'all can see his ftm transition.
> 
> Lastly I apologise in advance for my pacing, grammar and any spelling mistakes.. I went Beta free again!

_The air in the room was thick and it took a lot of effort to breathe in even breaths. The air con had long ago lost its affect as the bodies raced around the small room. The blue of their scrubs becoming a blur in his vision, his eyes barely differentiating the beige, browns and creams of the faces who wore the swirl of colours. His vision became hazy as the swirls of colours began to disorientate him and the stuffy room made it harder for the oxygen to reach his brain. Looking away sharply, he focused his attention on the white walls, they were quite bright in contrast to the dull floor, covered with wheel marks, clear liquids and fresh blood. Returning to the white walls, he noticed how impure they were, the paint was applied without enthusiasm, the trails of the brush marks standing out in odd lines, there was a few holes in the wall which were filled in haphazardly, he could only imagine the reason being aggressive patients or grieving loved ones but it was the scattering of fingerprints dotting around the headboard which made him panic, some of the fingerprints belong to the small tanned hand within his own grasp._

I looked from the freckled hand, my eyes trailing all the way up the slender arms, to the erratic rise and fall of the chest. My eyes landed on a pair of big brown much like my own, a small button nose covered in freckles which fell on both of their cheeks and full lips parted to reveal white gritted teeth. I looked away at the sight, eyes landing on the stomach protruding out of her usually slim body, her legs spread wide, toes gripping the sheets as another scream escaped her lips. I couldn’t bare the sound, the screams tearing from her, made the hairs rise on the back of my neck and for the tenth time today I was about to walk out and leave but this was my sister and she was doing this for me.

* * *

..Five years earlier..

I stood outside of the old bakery, hands planted on my hips, legs squared and I looked up at the sign over the entrance. The metal sign was a huge rectangular plaque, placed unsymmetrically against the wall, it was painted a grotesque green, the colour so sickly it stuck out against all the reds and blues of the stores beside it and for all the wrong reasons. From years of weathering the sign has begun to erode, coppery lines striping the green from where the rain had constantly trailed. In Bold Yellow letters sat the words Bott’s Bakery in a boring plain font. The sign lacked any beauty and the same could be said for the brown painted bricks. I hissed in disgust, raising hands up like paws and a smaller creamy pair of hands joined mine, the soft meows from Krista mingling with the roar of traffic and chattering pedestrians. “I’m so glad it’s coming down.” I mumbled hissing one more time at the sign. Krista continued to meow though, her small head of blonde hair nudging at my stomach, I ran my fingers through her hair and she giggled pushing her small hands away from me and pulling out her phone. She had a Decoden phone case I had created for her back in college, when we first met in my fashion design course and I was even happier when I found out she was studying art.

I had used a white clay, which I had piped onto the pink case mimicking cream, I remember using a white hot glue to attach all sorts of charms from small pink teddy bears, to pink cookies, there was a huge cupcake at the bottom and I had to wonder how she fit the phone case into her ridiculous lady sized trouser pockets but here she is nine years later still using the case. She used it all the way through college, university and even in the job she has now.

That said phone case was holding her Iphone, which she hasn’t changed in the years since I’ve known her. “Hey Mako! Stand by the sign.” Her voice was soft and sweet as for her choice in colours, clothes and food. Damn this girl had so much energy. I huffed out a breath which only made her beg more. “Come on Mako, it’ll be the last time you’ll see that disgusting thing, might as well take it down in style.” She smiled sweetly and I rolled my eyes at her as I gave in.

“Ohkay Kitty, only one.” I answered standing beside the old bakery. After our first meeting in Fashion Design, when we introduced ourselves Krista had mistaken my name for Mako instead of Marco and it somehow stuck till this day, me on the other hand, I branded Krista with her nickname when I first went to her house and saw surprisingly white walls, which were unsurprisingly covered in pink posters and pictures of white fluffy cats. I also remember that day I sat on what I assumed was an black stuffed animal which mingled with the assortment of teddy’s covering her bed lest I say, Levi her cravat wearing cat hasn’t liked me since. Why he wears that I don’t even know. I stood beside the store, smiling widely at the camera as her small fingers took the picture.

When I walked over to see the picture I could only laugh at the sight. Due to our insane height difference, Krista was only able to capture the edge of my head, smile barely visible and the majority of the horrid sign. She apologised complaining I was too tall and I complained she was too small, firing quick blows at each other until the men arrived to take my family’s sign.

The van pulled up, beside the old bakery and the door opened to reveal a tall blonde man, built like a Footballer, muscles straining through the white t-shirt he was wearing, black dungaree straps barely held up on his broad shoulders. He nodded towards us before walking around to the back of the van. The next guy stepped out, there was a loud bang, when he finally rounded the van, large hands rubbing his head he looked at me shocked. “Marco.” His voice was soft and he stood there looking at me timidly, things will never change. I stared at the tall tanned man in front of me, his head slightly ducked, his much longer brown hair falling into his eyes but I could still see the green eyes that stared back at me.

“Hi Bertolt, come to take my Nonna’s sign.” I asked and he smiled shyly, moving out of the way as the blonde man carried a Ladder towards the shop.

“How was Madre, when she found out about Nonna?” He asked, walking towards the ladder which was left haphazardly and held it up, as the other guy walked towards the truck. The use of the Italian felt strange coming from his German mouth and the use of the word Nonna brought back memories.

“She was distraught but weren’t we all. Nonna was the cement of the family, she held us together you know but once she passed and the family began to crumble. There were arguments over whether she should be buried back home, who will inherit this, who will inherit that, there was a moment I thought Uncle Arturo and Uncle Gavino, were going to put a hit on me for the bakery but we all knew Nonna wanted me to have the shop, regardless of how haggard it looks.” By the end of my mini rant the blonde had stood beside Bertolt, a box of tools in his hands and Krista was looking up at me with curiosity in her eyes, I gave her the ‘I’ll-explain-later’ look and she practically pounced on me.

“I could never get a feel for those guys, they hated me.” Bertolt whispered and the blond elbowed him in the ribs. “Oh-oh alright, this is Reiner, Reiner this is Marco an old _friend_. I guess we should probably get started we’ll call you out when the next sign is up.” He nodded to me, before bounding up the ladder long limbs moving awkwardly, the Reiner guy held onto the ladder and when Bertolt was at the top, he passed a screwdriver to him.

Bertolt didn’t tell me when the sign was up. The sound of the van backing away before speeding down the road, was the only give away of his departure.

* * *

 

It was a few weeks since the sign had been put up, the inside of the old bakery was refurbished. The glass counters that once held bread, buns and cakes of all kinds was taken out and replaced with a black laminate desk, on one end the desk was a wide touchscreen monitor and on the other side was a cash register. The remaining counters were switched for clothing racks and the shelves remained empty _. I’ll find something for you one day_. Unlike my Nonna, who kept the green, red and white from the Italian flag, I decided to skip the green and go for a black, red and white colour scheme. Looking around at my handy work, I looked at the gleaming white walls, red picture frames lining the walls to showcase beautiful dresses. Black racks waiting to be filled with the works of Mikasa Ackerman one of Trost’s youngest successful designers at twenty five, with a net worth of $420 million but I can’t forget the expertise of Erwin Smith, a designer I idolised and uncle of Krista, thanks to her I am able to sell his dresses in the store.

I walked back outside to see Krista attempting to paint the remaining patch of brick wall with white paint. I lifted her onto my shoulders and in several strokes, the store was newly repainted, newly rebranded and newly refurbished. The sign was a vibrant red, a cursive font covering the expanse of the sign, the words Bott’s Boutique sat in white. Okay, it’s not that creative, I can’t really rip on little Nonna for choosing Bott’s Bakery anymore. I looked down at Krista only to get a mouthful of white paint as she brushed the paint laden brush across my face, angelic giggles covering my screams.

It was April the ninth, two thousand and nine but most importantly it was the launch of Bott’s Boutique. Trost wasn’t the biggest of towns, we have our typical, clothes stores, music stores and all of that typical mumble jumble but Trost had only one wedding dress shop. A store, I used to work in through college, a store I was later fired from when Paula the manager found out I was gay. Sadly for her, she began to lose a lot of clientele, yes she sold dresses but Paula didn’t have the passion for the dresses nor the wedding itself and that sort of passion is what a bride to be craves.

Back to my point, I was standing at the entrance of my store, wearing black slim fit trousers, a white shirt and red bow tie, ushering passer-by’s inside. Krista had agreed to hand out leaflets and she and her boyfriend took to the streets to hand out my brightly coloured flyers. The brighter the colours, the more eye catching it is. I wasn’t hoping for a dance floor packed store but I was slightly sad at the small numbers, women and men of all ages entered the store, gushing at the dresses, some even took brochures and contact cards but none of them were important to me anymore. I had resided to the counter chattering away to the odd few, who wanted to know about the new store and what I had to offer. They chattered away excitedly but I only stared through them.

A pair of leather black brogues stepped into the store, followed by slim legs of black tailored trousers, he wore a blazer style black jacket with leather sleeves, and the shocking blue shirt peeking through was the only hint of colour in his all black ensemble. A few heads turned to look at the man, mine was one of them, the customer abruptly cut off as I zoned out. His hair was styled into an undercut, the blonde hair atop his head slicked back a stray strand curling upwards slightly, the cropped hair was a darker blonde nearly brown, his face was a pale cream almost white, his nose was thin and protruded from his face as he gave the store a once over, thin lips a line on his bored face, striking amber eyes, narrowed and stoic. There was something feline in the way he looked, not the same way I’d describe Krista. Were Krista is playful and lively, he looked powerful and majestic like a lion.

A woman followed in behind holding onto his hand and heads turned away quickly, including my own. “Oh look at these dressers.” She exclaimed, fingers reaching out to grasp at the white dresses hanging from the racks. I side-eyed her taking in her appearance, her brown hair was pulled up into a tight bun, her eyes lined in black eyeliner and her lips tinted red. She was wearing a grey two piece suit, the blazer fitting her small frame tightly, the pencil skirt brushing the tops of her knees. As she meandered around the store, her black heels clicked at the floor. _Jeffrey Campbell Lita’s, those shoes are perf_. In that moment I realised how much I hate this stranger, for having a man so beautiful, no handsome and owning a pair of Lita’s. Her brown eyes fell on me and I glanced towards the spot were my customer was last standing, the clicking of the heels sounded closer and I pulled on a smile.

“Hi there, my name is Marco Bott, owner of Bott’s Boutique. Wedding planner and dressmaker. Would you like some assistance?” I asked forcing every ounce of politeness into my voice. She beamed at me, brown eyes brightening.

“No way, you organise the weddings and make the dresses.” She grinned, clasping her hands together. I was wrong I don’t hate this stranger I love her. I laughed nervously, waving my hands up.

“No, no I organise the weddings and sell dresses from two designers who are working closely with the store however I do make dresses and if I’m persuaded I am capable of designing and making a dress from scratch.” I smiled and she beamed even more.

“So if I asked you to make me a dress made out of McDonald fries cartons, you could do that?” She asked and I balked at her question.

“I’m sure, that wouldn’t be comfortable, besides nobody wants _their_ bride to smell like fries, no matter how nice McDonald fries are.” A deep came from our left and our heads looked across to see the man with the amber coloured eyes. Once again I felt the hate bubbling up in me as she grabbed his hands. Nobody wants their bride to smell like fries, I brushed a hand through the short curls of my black hair, I turned but a hand gripped my arm and I turned to see the brunette looking up at me.

“Mark, I haven’t found a wedding planner yet and I’m having trouble finding a dress. Can I come in one of the days for a consultation?” She asked and I flinched internally at the wrong name, what is it with people mistaking my name for anything but Marco.

“Sure, here is my card. Here is my store phone and if you by any chance can’t contact me on that, my phone number is beneath that and if somehow, that fails, email me with this.” I handed her the card and the amber eyed man raised a thin dark eyebrow.

“Or you can follow him on Facebook, Myspace and Tumblr.” He drawled out sarcastically and I smiled. The two of them walked towards the entrance and the last thing I heard him say was. “His name is Marco, not Mark. Damn it Sasha.” After that the day had flown by, I was able to book three consultations and I have a customer already interested in a selection of Erwin’s gowns. As I closed the store, I thought back to the man with the amber eyes and his hair slicked back. He looked so regal, royal, so mine.

* * *

 

It was two weeks later when I finally got a call from the brunette, she was able to slot her in for an appointment at noon and after the success of the last few consultations I felt confident. Confident all up onto the door swung open and she entered, the blonde man in tow. She bounded up to the counter, how she ran in those heels, I don’t know and she peered over like an excited puppy.

“Hey Mark!” she shouted and I mentally slapped a hand to my forehead but the sound of an actual hand making contact, made me open my eyes. I looked across to where the man was standing left hand resting against his forehead, eyes squeezed shut.

“How many times Sasha his name is Marco… Excuse her, she has the habit of saying anything but your name. She called me Gene for a good seven months.” He removed his hand to reveal his amber eyes, rolling in a melodramatic way, his thin lips wore the faintest of smiles.

“Well, Jean. It’s not my fault your name is read differently to it is pronounced… shouldn’t it be spelt Jahn not Jean?” She asked and he dropped his head slightly, mouth hanging open. I was one hundred percent sure his soul left his body for three seconds.

“No Sasha because then it would be pronounced John.” He explained and she only said something witty which made him blow a fuse and by fuse I mean throw profanities like a sailor. I watched the debacle with keen interest before I stepped in.

“Sasha, time is money and luckily for the two of you this is a free consultation, the next one if it is booked will be paid. Jean-” ‘Thank you!’ he interjected before I carried on. “As the groom’s suit is one of the smaller focuses not that the groom isn’t important but aside from the venue, the invites, the catering, the dress and all that jazz, the groom is kind of like a last minute thing but I like to sort the groom out first. Do you have anything in mind?” I pulled out my notebook and when I looked at them, they both stared back comically.

“Me-me.” He stuttered out, pointing to Sasha and she did the same.

“Me-me marry him?” She asked appalled and I looked at them confused. “Jean is not my fiancé, do you see a ring on that skinny finger?” She asked amused and he raised his hand to me showing of his bare ring finger before flipping Sasha the bird. I’m not sure if I sighed physically or mentally but the relief was there. Jean is not with Sasha but that doesn’t mean Jean is single or gay.

Well he can’t be one hundred percent straight, I mean come on look at him. He was wearing a black and white tweed suit, with a black cotton shirt beneath, there was three silver bands on three of his right fingers and his hair was once again slicked back. He looked around the store with a distant look but as if he felt my scrutiny, he turned his honey suckle eyes to me. There was an almost amused hint in his stare but it was soon replaced with impatience. “Sashie, how long is this going to take, I am starving?” He groaned quietly and she only smiled at him which only riled his patience.

“It won’t take long, maybe half an hour to an hour… I have some cake around the back if you wanted any?” I was nervous and I’m sure they both could tell, Jean regarded me quietly but before he could speak Sasha was squealing.

“Cake, did you say? I need cake in my mouth like right now or I’ll eat Jean’s bony ass and believe me it is bony.” Sasha shouted, attempting to turn Jean around to prove her point and even though she was a good twenty pounds heavier than him, Jean fought back. While they argued with each other, I slipped out from behind my desk and walked around the back. Once away from their eyes and ears, I slumped against the wall of my small office. Holy Crab apple, Jean looks really good today. I peeked around the side and saw him squaring off with Sasha, giggling quietly I pushed off from against the wall and headed towards the slices of cake. My Madre and I were working on a few of Nonna’s recipes and decided to create two simple vanilla sponge cakes, one with marzipan icing and the other with frosted icing. Which one would Jean like, Marzipan is sweeter but Jean doesn’t look like the sweet tooth however judging by that pristine suit Jean doesn’t look like the type to eat something messy.

I felt as though I was going to have an aneurysm trying to decide which cake to impress him with. _God damn it Marco, it’s not even his wedding, why are you trying to impress him_. When I returned, the pair were standing far away from each other, Sasha looking at the dresses and Jean flicking through the magazine on the counter. I placed the cake with Marzipan beside the catalogue and he looked at it.

“Oh my God, that looks so good.” Jean hummed eyeing the cake. Jean leaned over the counter gesturing for me to do the same and so I moved my ear towards him “Is it for me? Like if she sees this, I won’t have any.” He whispered and I nodded.

“Yeah, that’s why I brought-” I was cut off by the sound of heels assaulting my brand new floor and Sasha was at the counter like a coyote ready to pounce on its prey. Jean groaned and pushed the plate towards her and I felt a strange pang in my chest. “Two, that’s why I brought two slices of cake.” I finished, lifting the other paper plate up from my side of the counter. The pair eyed the cake with ferocity, even Sasha who already had her fork poised in the air, she grabbed for the frosted slice before I had a slice to lower the plate. “Now, I’m not sure if you guys know this but this store used to be a bakery, ran by my grandmother and her mother before that. Growing up I’ve learned a few tricks of the trade and so has my family… erm you’re both probably wondering why I’m telling you my life story erm well my family have agreed to help cater for weddings if the Bride and Groom can’t find any other caterers. The catering includes the cake, any refreshments and food for the guests.” I was about to open my mouth to speak but my eyes landed on Sasha’s empty plate. I lowered my raised finger and sighed. “I was about to say, that the two cakes here are two different recipes and the two of you could try both slices out and see what you think but er well that plans screwed.” As if noticing my drift Jean looked at Sasha’s plate and then cake stuffed cheek.

“Sasha, you see this is why we can’t have nice things… well Marco, this slice tastes amazing. Care to share the recipe?” Jean asked brushing off Sasha’s attempts of eating his own and that’s how I fell for Jean Kirstein.

This became a regular thing, the pair booking appointments and coming to the store over their lunch breaks. Every time Jean would be adorned in a stylish suit, his hair slicked back and a pout on his mouth. Every time the pair would argue over something, what colour the bridesmaids should wear, what colour the invites should be and every time I asked were the groom was, the pair would scratch the back of their necks or do anything to evade the question. Sadly every time they came into the store, I never got the chance to talk to Jean alone, yes he would direct his attention to me for the briefest of moments however that would only be to explain or apologise for Sasha’s hyper activeness. Like the time she reached over the counter and knocked a container of glitter onto the small white fur rug beneath the counter or the time Sasha had tracked icing around the store floor. Jean had offered to stay back and help clean the floor but his lunch break was finishing and he still had to get back to work, besides I couldn’t picture Jean moving much in that tight suit. The things I’d do to him, in or out of a suit.

“I met somebody cute and funny, got each other and that's funny…” I sat inside of my office, the stereo filling the silence of the store. I sang along, as I jotted down some notes inside of my diary. It’s been two weeks since I met Sasha and over the few lunch breaks she’s dropped by I’ve been able to get a sense of what she wants for the wedding. The bad news, everything is unachievable. The good news, there are no good news, not when Sasha wants a giant wedding cake shaped like a colossal man, with icing creating the illusion of exposed muscles. All though this was all a big joke to Sasha the fat of the matter is that, I still have no idea of what kind of cake she wants or even a final colour scheme. “…Then I met someone.” I was so engrossed in my thoughts that I didn’t hear the small bell chime of a customer’s arrival, I was so absorbed in the music filling the store, I most definitely didn’t expect to see a pair of amber eyes staring at me from behind the counter, a pair of eyes that were alone.

I blushed, having been caught singing and Jean’s thin lips quirked into a slight smile. He leaned against the counter, his arms crossed upon the top. “Yo.” He spoke first and I raised an eyebrow.

“Yo?” I repeated, and he rolled his eyes.

“Okay, how about hey, seeing as yo isn’t in your vocabulary.” His lips remained in a thin line but there was a hint of laughter in his voice.

“Hello Jean, where’s Sasha?” I questioned and he rolled his eyes again sighing.

“That’s exactly what my boss said when I left for my lunch break, I think he thinks I’m sleeping with her. Whenever her fiancé drops by, he always gives me the evil eyes. Anyway, she stayed back at the office today and she may be doing it through most of the week. She is neck deep in paperwork.” Jean spoke confidently, whilst he rummaged around in his pocket. The office, Jean works in an office but doing what? Jean produced a slim black mobile from his blazer pocket and he swiped the screen. “Also Sasha say’s to tell you that she might be putting the wedding on pause until she finishes all this work but I told her that I don’t mind helping out besides I haven’t got any better to do.” His lips lifted into a lopsided smile and he ran a hand through his slicked back hair.

“Oh… well let’s get started. Do you have lunch with you?” I asked, unsure of what to do now the two of us were actually alone.

“Nah, I was kinda hoping you had some cake.” Jean’s cheeks flushed ever so lightly and I felt my heart flutter.

“Well you’re just in luck.” I beamed, turning on my heel and heading towards my office. There was footsteps behind me and I turned around bumping into Jean who was right on my heels. His head hit my chest and I reached up to grab his shoulders on instinct. “Whoa there Jean.” I shouted and he let out a nervous laugh.

“Oh I’m sorry, I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to stay here or follow you.” He replied, motioning with his fingers to the counter. When the pair usually come in, I bring two stools from around the back for them to sit on but as Jean is alone, I can understand his confusion.

“Well, I don’t usually let customers back here but its fine you can come inside.” I lead him into the small room, which I use as an office, stockroom and kitchen. There’s a small desk with my laptop, at the furthest end from the door. Beside the desk are cardboard boxes full of paper, fabric and unnecessary stuff Krista and I ordered in our online shopping frenzy. The wall closest to the door has a small microwave and kettle on the counter with a few containers of food.

“What the hell is this?” Jean exclaimed and I felt my cheeks heat up. Running to my laptop I paused the music, that was still playing.

“Not a fan of Gaga?” I asked, drumming my fingers along the desk.

“What’s a Gaga?” Jean quirked a brow and crossed his arms. “In fact, where are you hiding the cake?” He looked around the small space before he located the containers on the side.

“No cake, until I educate you on the amazing Stefani Joanne Angelina Germanotta.” I smiled and he groaned dramatically. I turned the music back on and Jean occupied the only other seat in the room besides the one at my desk and the fold away stools. His stomach rumbled loudly and I caved in giving him a slice of Victoria Sponge before _Bad Romance_ even finished.

We stayed like that throughout the hour, Jean would compliment me on the slices I gave him and I would gush over his compliments. “Why didn’t you keep the bakery? I’m sure you’d get more customers than this place.” He asked blandly and I blanched at the question.

“Well baking might be my family’s thing but it’s not mine.” I leaned against the desk and Jean raised his eyebrow for the millionth time today.

“Hmmm.” He chided, slouching into the cushioned chair, with a sigh I walked over to the kettle ignoring his eyes trailing after me as he waited for my answer. Flipping the button, I turned towards him.

“When I was seven years old, I fell in love with fashion, well most specifically drawing dresses. I remember one lunch time, a girl named Hannah was sitting on this step, in the playground and she drawing a dress on a girl and I was amazed. I have a sister, a twin if you’d believe it and she didn’t really draw those kind of things so it was something new to me and I remember asking her if I could draw one to and she said boys don’t draw dresses. That has followed me all the way through secondary school were I only drew in the comfort of my home.” I breathed out. Jean tilted his head back, golden eyes searching my face.

“Did you pick art?” He asked and I smiled.

“Yeah, it was my favourite subject… I still didn’t draw dresses though not until I picked my GCSE’s and chose Textiles. My teacher thought it was a mistake that my name was on the register making a big fuss that the receptionists had done something wrong but I think deep down she knew, I picked it. Anyway to cut a story short, I was picked on by the boys in my year, called a fag, a batty boy all kinds of stuff and it hurt but it’s my life, it’s what I enjoy and I felt like I needed to make a stand show everybody that I could do it, open up my own dress store and here I am.” The kettle chimed, just as I had finished and I turned around hiding the blush that had risen once again. Jean was silent and when I turned he sat with his head back and his eyes closed. “Would you like some ginger tea?” I asked and he shook his head. Pouring myself a mug, I sat at my desk.

“Damn, my story isn’t as cool as that. Not that being bullied for being gay is cool.” He raised his hands defensively and I laughed.

“Who said I was gay?” I teased and his eyes widened.

“Oh man, I’m sorry I just-” I interjected saying ‘assumed’ and he paled, nodding. “Yeah, I’m sorry.” He apologised and I smiled even wider.

“Don’t worry about it.” I wanted my sexuality to be a mystery, especially since I have no idea what Jeans preferences are. Besides even a fool could tell I’m gay and that has nothing to do with the fact I make dresses because straight guys make dresses too (besides Erwin Smith his double the gay) and it’s not because I bake cakes and all sorts of puddings because most bakers are heterosexual married men. The only giveaway that I am gay is that my heart flutters every time I see Jean, my cheeks are constantly red and my eyes are glued to him throughout all of Sasha’s appointments. Oh and because I totally whacked one off last night thinking about a pale blonde man.

I was slightly disappointed when Jean didn’t ask about my sexuality but I was happy to learn something about the mysterious man. “Well sorry again… I was going to say my let’s call it an origin story isn’t as cool as yours. I mean look you have your store and I’m pretty sure all of those assholes walk past thinking, damn he made it.” Jean stood up and I cast my eyes away being caught staring once again. He walked towards me and perched on the edge of his desk. “I studied art as well. It was the only subject I poured my heart into. I sucked ass at math, hey Marco don’t laugh it’s not funny. I sucked so hard like I had Fs and nothing higher. My ex-girlfriend had to tutor me and well there wasn’t much tutoring. I’m lucky I even passed...” Jean was chattering away so happily, so he didn’t notice the way I slumped back in my chair or the way my soul climbed out of my body and walked right out the door. _Great his straight. Straighter than this pen_.

“But English however was my forte, I didn’t have to study much, I would just enter a test and A*s for me. It was like I was a genius in one thing and a complete doofus in another. Anyway I wanted to be a Freelance Illustrator but my parent’s hated it, they said I wouldn’t even get a customer because my art was awful. It was probably one of the things made me hate myself growing up so you know what I did. I spray painted my dad’s car, it was one of the best things I’ve ever done.” He looked so proud and I sat up shocked.

“Holy crab apple Jean, that’s so naughty.” I gasped and Jean wrinkled his nose at me.

“Holy crab what now, is that your way of swearing. Holy shit Marco, you’re a real golden boy aren’t you.” He laughed and I buried my head in my arms.

“No I’m not.” I said, voice muffled by the floral jumper I was wearing.

“I can’t hear you.” Jean teased and I raised my head, pouting,

“I said no I’m not! Bloody hell… wait a second, if you were such a punk in high school, what happened to you?” Motioning towards his clothes, I finally asked the question that has been hounding me, why does Jean always look so smart?

“Oh this, well after going on probation and being threatened to get kicked out of the house. I decided to study Law in college and well after four years of ‘bust a nut every night because you’re so stressed out’ studying, here I am.” He smiled and it was my turn to raise a brow. “It’s not exactly a dig at my parent’s but what the hell, they’re proud of me.” He splayed his fingers onto the desk and I noticed a black mark underneath one of the rings.

“What’s that?” I questioned, poking his finger and he scoffed.

“Aye nosey, remember when you referred to me as a punk, well it wasn’t only my behaviour but my clothes as well… can you keep a little secret?” He leaned towards me and I followed, lifting my self up slightly.

“Yes.” I whispered afraid to break the moment.

“The punk hasn’t left me.” He whispered into my ears, the notion was too intimate too… seductive. I gulped suddenly, falling back into my chair noisily.

“So what does that mean? You’re this regal gentlemen by day and a tartan wearing punk by night.” I must have looked confused because Jean’s throaty laughter filled the room, his head was tipped back and I laughed nervously.

“Okay, maybe it died out a little and aye not all punks wear tartan mister. What time is it anyway?” He asked, wiping a stray tear from his eye.

“Erm… quarter past one.” Jean’s eyes shot open and he flew off the desk, I ran after him handing him a small container. “Here take this.” He took it from me and shouted a goodbye before I could respond. His blazer flapping in the wind as he ran past the window. Holy mother of Gaga, this man was a punk. This suit wearing, hair slicking man is still a punk. This is something I need to see even if it kills me. The next time he comes in, I’ll ask him out for a drink, as a friend. Well that’s if he thinks of me as a friend. I sighed.

* * *

 

The day went by and I was closing the store at four. When I was creating store times, I wanted to keep the store open to six but there isn’t a lot of clientele and well I could be doing more important things like Jacking of to some peenie porn or trying my best not to step on Levi, who is eyeing me evilly from across the sofa. “Krista, does Levi still hate me?” I asked and Krista looked up at me.

“Honey, he fucking hates you.” Ymir answered huskily and I scowled at him. Ymir is the brother I never had, he supported me when I came out as gay to my family and I was there was when he came out as a Trans man to his family. Both of us had a hard time but we were there to support each other. If it wasn’t for me, my best friend wouldn’t be cuddling with my other best friend, right this very instant.

“Well it was worth a try.” I flickered my eyelashes and Krista laughed. Ymir picked up the remote and started to surf through the channels. Rude boy came on and I looked at Krista and she looked at me before the two of us jumped up, scaring Levi to death. Ymir groaned rubbing his face while the two of us sang along. This is how most evenings go, if I'm not at my apartment painting or trying out my own recipes, I'd come over to Ymir's house. In fact this place is my second home, after drunken nights out, I wake up on this very sofa, hell my body dent is permanently ingrained in it. Krista and Ymir are my only true friends, yes I still talk to a few people from University but they aren't what I consider a friend. They don't fill me with excitement the way Krista does or with bravery the way Ymir does and as sad as it sounds, I'm happy to only have two friends.

Even as I say my goodbyes, I know I'll see them again soon. It was on my ride home, that my phone chimed.

 

**From: Unknown Number**

Just so you know my boss believes my girlfriend made me a cake.

**From: Unknown Number**

Funny thing is I don’t have a girlfriend.

 

It took me a while before it dawned on me who the texts were from, I almost drove straight into a lamppost when the realisation that Jean had took my number hit me and I had to pull my car to the side.

 

**To: Unknown Number**

Maybe I should make you packed lunches too.

**From: Unknown Number**

You’d do that.. Marco are you God?

**To: Unknown Number**

Only the opposite.

**From: Unknown Number**

Yeah right, I haven’t even known you for a month

and even I can tell you’re a mama’s boy saint

**To: Unknown Number**

Well there’s a lot you don’t know about me..

**From: Unknown Number**

Well I do know, you’re wearing yellow socks!

 

What, the hell. I looked down at my feet tucked into my white low top converse’s and surely enough my yellow socks were visible.

 

**To: Unknown Number**

That doesn’t count.

**From: Unknown Number**

Well you wouldn’t believe me if I said I was wearing yellow socks too.

**From: Unknown Number**

Well was wearing there somewhere on the floor…

**To: Unknown Number**

You keep your bedroom a mess?

**From: Unknown Number**

Who said anything about bedrooms…

I’m in my living room and if you must know, my room is spotless

**To: Unknown Number**

A punk with a tidy room??

**From: Unknown Number**

Ohkay, Ohkaaaaay my punk days are dead but I’m still a badass

and a badass is allowed to have a tidy room.

Anyway I’m about to catch up on Supernatural see ya tomorrow bro!

**To: Unknown Number**

Ciao Jean.

 

I sat back against the car seat, smiling so broadly, people walking past most have thought I was crazy. I can’t believe he texted me. I squealed in delight whilst editing his contact. It was when I was climbing into bed that night, I remembered Jean said see you tomorrow, well see ya tomorrow bro but the sentiment counts, he is going to see me tomorrow and that means I can shamelessly gawk at him. _Oh Jean, I am going to destroy your neat hair one day. Just watch me_.


	2. Beryl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco reminisces about one of the things that has impacted on his life and as the day goes by Marco is not the only one, strolling down memory lane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, the second chapter is up and I wanted to focus on one of the things that have impacted on both Jean and Marco. I guess I just wanted to show Jean's chaotic personality in this chapter and damn, he is quite chaotic today.

_Marco stood outside of his store, eyes cast upwards, as he focused on the sky and nothing else. He fixated on the way the wisps of white clouds stood out against the aquamarine blues of the morning sky. The clouds were placed in random positions yet the patterns they created were intricate, as if God himself had taken a paintbrush and created a beautiful watercolour piece. Neat and nimble strokes of pure white gouache on the most striking of blues, a blue that seemed familiar to Marco, a blue that hung around his neck. Marco tore his eyes away from the enchanting tones of the aqua, blue and white that littered the sky. It was when he had unlocked the store that he remembered why the sky looked so familiar, he brought his hand up to grasp the blue gem that hung down from his silver chain._

No it’s not just any gem, it’s a Beryl. Ymir had given it to me when I had turned seventeen, in gratitude for helping him through the early stages of his transitioning. It was only the start of a journey that had not only impacted on his life but my own. When Ymir was sixteen he came out as male, I remember sitting around the dining table with his parents and his dad only laughed. I can recall his dad throwing the ‘we all know you’re a lesbian’ line at him but we all knew that wasn’t what Ymir meant and it was clear from the way his dad gritted his teeth.

When his family slammed doors, I was there to open them. When his friends looked at him like he was a beast, I was the one who looked at him as if he was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen and he was. My love for Ymir is a different kind of love, it isn’t the kind of love you had for a mother, a lover or even a pet hamster, no this love was admiration. I admired his bravery, I admired his decisions and I just admired him.

Throughout the early stages, every day with him was an adventure, like the time we began to notice his leg hair growing more vastly, after a few weeks of using HRT. It was the look in his eyes, that opened my heart in various ways and its moments like those were my love for him truly shone. The necklace he gave me, was a thin silver chain with the Beryl crystal hanging down, it was a simple thing but the meaning behind it was more precious than the sentiment itself.

I remember him telling me that when exposed to sunlight, overtime the blue begins to fade to white and I knew exactly why this crystal meant so much to him. As the days went on he continued to change physically, as would a flower that had been exposed to the perfect conditions of soil, sunlight and water. The more my Beryl was exposed to the sun the more it would fade over time and so would Ymir fading from the Ymir that his family expected him to be, to the Ymir he was inside.

“Oh Ymir…” I whispered, looking up to the sky one last time before walking into my office.

* * *

 

The morning went by like most days, I cleaned the store, ordered more brochures, restocked the shelves of jewellery and sang to my heart’s content. The atmosphere was peaceful and I felt calmer after my little reminiscence earlier. I even had a customer today, a young lady with blonde hair cropped short and calm blue eyes. She was peering through the window and I could sense her hesitation to enter and after what felt like ages, she shyly stepped inside. I took the opportunity to pounce on her and welcome her to the store. The lady’s name was Nanaba and she explained it was her parent’s anniversary in a few months. Nanaba wanted to plan a small wedding so that they could renew their vows. She was tempted to go to Bridal (such a cliché name and also the store of my old boss) but after hearing what she planned to do, I could only let out a squeal of delight something Paula my old boss would never do and it seemed Nanaba was also encouraged by my enthusiasm hence why I was able to book a consultation with her. When she left I sat at the counter smiling widely like a Ventriloquist’s Dummy, I felt so elevated finally getting an actual customer besides Sasha. Lowering my head to the counter I sighed. _Today cannot get any better than this._

The door slammed open and I whipped my head up to see a tall figure standing in the doorway with their arms outstretched and their head tipped back. The figures head snapped forward and I could have sworn, I heard my eyes rolling into the back of my head. “I’m back!” a husky voice shouted into the once silent store.

“Jean, you can’t just swing my door open like that, it’s brand new besides what if I had a customer, you would have scared them away.” I chastised him like a child and he pouted his lip, crossing his arms stubbornly. Storming towards him. I swatted his arm and he cried out in pretend pain.

“Oi Marco, you’re not allowed to hurt customers and if I may say, you don’t get any customers in here apart from Sasha and me so I’d only be scaring away the spiders you befriended in here.” Jean looked down at my jumper before lowering his gaze to my boots, he looked up at me with an expression of mock horror. “Dude, is that a woman’s jumper?” He questioned and I looked down at my turquoise floral sweatshirt, white chino shorts and turquoise Doc Martens.

“And if it was?” I asked looking down at him. He was half a head shorter than me and this close I could see the stray strands of hair sticking up from his usual slick back.

“I’d say that’s gay dude, hella gay.” He looked into my eyes and I saw a challenge in his own. “Anyway wasn’t you wearing one like that yesterday?” Jeans eyes strayed back to my sweatshirt again and I breathed out a breath I didn’t realise I was holding.

“Maybe.” I answered and he raised an eyebrow.

“Hmm, do you have many more?” He asked, tilting his head to the side slightly.

“Maybe.” I repeated and Jean scowled, which made me giggle.

“Quit saying maybe, I’m trying to understand why you like that sort of stuff.” He whined and I sighed softly.

“I like these prints for the same reason you were a punk, it’s just me… you wanna help out?” I nodded my head towards the boxes by the counter and Jean tiptoed to look over my shoulder. When he looked back, there was a dissatisfied look on his face.

“Ugh, I came here to help plan Sasha’s stupid wedding and eat every slice of cake in your office not become your slave.” He groaned in annoyance and I giggled again, thinking of other scenarios were he could be my slave.

“Well we can do both besides I’ll be doing most of the work.” I started to walk over towards the counter and I heard the click clack of Jean’s brogues following me. I bent down to pry one of the cardboard boxes open. “Anyway who said you’re going back into my office?” I asked looking up at him from where I crouched on the floor.

“I said so… do you have a problem with that flower boy?” Jean teased, amber eyes looking down at me.

“Well maybe I do. I’ll be back in a second.” I stood up slowly and as I predicted the sounds of Jean’s footsteps sounded behind me. “If you’re planning on sneaking up on me, maybe you should wear quieter shoes.” I didn’t even look behind me to know that he was scowling, it’s just what he does and there’s something about it that’s very attractive. Stepping inside of my office, I went straight to the back wall were my desk sat. Against the wall was a Rowenta IS6200 steamer which I use to remove the creases from garments delivered to me in boxes. Unlike Erwin Smith and Mikasa Ackerman, there are small time dress makers who don’t even care if their dresses are shoved into a box and that’s probably why they will remain small time.

I grabbed the stem of the steamer and as I was about to bend down to lift the base, I heard the rustling of foil.

“Oi Marco, what’s in here?” Jean asked, peering into my foil wrapped spinach and mushroom quiche. “Oh dude, that looks gross.” He muttered sealing the foil back.

“And that is why, I’ll only make cake for you.” I retorted. How rude of him, invading my privacy and criticizing my food. _What a douche, a hot douche. A hot douche I want to bang_. “Haven’t you ever eaten a quiche before?” I lifted the steamer and headed towards him.

“Yeah, my mum used to make them for me all the time when I grew up but one day they just started to taste like clay and oh God, she’d bring some over for me when I moved out and I just had to tell her it tasted like shit.” He was scratching the back of his head and I stood there dumbfounded.

“Jean!” I shouted and he looked at me shocked.

“What?” He asked and I slapped my free hand to my face.

“Please tell me you didn’t say it like that?” I mumbled against my hand, only daring to peer at him through my fingers.

“No, I said you’re food tastes like the cheapest brand of clay and I’d rather eat that than this shit.” He finished blandly and I could only stare opened mouthed. How could this refined looking guy have the most unrefined personality?

“Jean, you can’t say that too you’re mother, it’s rude and anyway how do you know what clay tastes like?” I questioned while his pale cheeks went a shade of pink.

“Well, I lost a bet.” Jean looked down at the foil wrapped quiche and I lowered the steamer to the floor. “And you’ll have to get me drunk before you find out the rest of that story.” His embarrassment mere seconds ago was replaced with his usual sly smile but the blush remained.

“Well it is ten past twelve and I know you must be a little hungry because I certainly am so why not try a little bit of it and if it tastes like…. Clay, I’ll just give you some cake but Jean, you need to eat a proper lunch. You’ve been coming here for almost a month and all you eat is cake.” I spoke firmly and he looked up at me with those striking eyes of his. The motion reminded me of Krista whenever she shouts at Levi for chewing her Teddy’s (well the ones Ymir allows on his bed), Levi would always look up at her with his big eyes and his mouth would hang slack, ears flat against his head. That’s exactly how jean is staring at me now besides the ears part.

I subconsciously lifted my hand, my index finger nudging his chin up. His mouth closed but there was now a quizzical look in his eyes, coughing into my hand to clear the air, I walked around him and to the small counter were the quiche was abandoned. “Would you like it hot or cold?” I asked, turning slightly I saw Jean was standing in the exact same position back towards me, head slightly tilted and it made me anxious to know how his face looked. “Jean.” I spoke softly and he turned a small smile on his face.

“The same way, you have yours.” He replied, before walking over to the small couch. I put all three slices on a plate and placed it in the microwave. I hummed quietly as I waited for the two minutes to finish. The microwave beeped away and so I put a slice each on paper plates before cutting the third slice down the middle.

“Here.” I passed the first plate to Jean and he accepted it with a thanks. I joined him on the small couch, not wanting to move to my desk and as an excuse to squeeze up beside him. I watched as he ate a forkful, his eyes closed and his face screwed up. I gritted my teeth nervously, awaiting his criticism. He chewed slowly to begin with, his mouth moving mechanically but then his pace began to quicken before he swallowed the piece. His narrow eyes opened and he looked at me.

“Marco, this is good.” He smiled and I bit my lip, tilting my head up to the ceiling. _Thank the heavens for that_. By the time I stated eating my own slice, Jean was already onto the half I had given him. “Oh dude.” He spoke around a mouthful. “Never in my life did I think I’d be eating quiche again… especially with mushrooms and spinach, Holy shit!” He chewed vigorously and I watched him finish the last piece. “You put my mother to shame.” He looked at me warmly and I felt a flutter in the depths of my stomach.

“Jean, don’t say that. Oh, here take this.” I gave him the other half and he happily accepted it.

“No seriously.” He chewed. “My mum is French, this is a dish she should be able to cook without even looking.” He swallowed the last piece and I reached other for the bottle of water on my desk. He regarded it carefully before, unscrewing the cap and taking a few sips.

“You’re French?” I practically screamed and Jean jumped, looking at me from the corner of his eye.

“Well not entirely, my father is German and my mother is French.” He handed the bottle back to me and I myself had a drink. “Did you plan for that indirect kiss?” He teased.

“Holy crab apple Jean, no I didn’t!” I sputtered, covering my mouth as I coughed. “Have you been to France, is it nice? What about that bridge were couples leave padlocks, have you been there? Ooh what about the Eiffel Tower is it grand?” I babbled on and I could see the life draining from Jean’s body as he stared at me emotionless. _Nice recovery Marco, a shame to had to kill his soul_.

“Yeah, yeah I’ve seen the Eiffel Tower but it’s nothing special, just a piece of metal but the bridge is actually pretty cool.” He said the last part sadly and I looked down at my now empty plate. There he goes again being so unpredictable. In all of the times I’ve seen Jean, I have not once seen him show any emotion yet here is thinking about something that probably meant the world to him at some point in his life. Something that makes him sad.

“Was… was it your ex-girlfriend?” I asked slowly and he looked at me with a look of repulsion.

“Mina, no. Hell no.” He shouted and I raised my hands up in defeat. “It was her brother.” I was about to stand up but I found myself glued to the seat. _Wait, her brother_.

“I thought you were straight.” I said and he looked at me coldly.

“I am. Just because a guy broke my heart doesn’t mean I’m gay.” His words held no conviction and I felt a pang in my chest.

“That’s exactly what it means Jean… look you don’t have to talk about it but I’m here. I am your friend _right_?” I asked worriedly and Jean barked out a forced of laugh.

“Of course Marco, I wouldn’t be dining with stranger if we weren’t.” He sighed loudly and I took the chance to take both of our paper plates to the bin. When I returned Jean had removed his blazer and sat slouched in the small couch. I squeezed into any remaining space and he sighed again. “I was never able to make much friends growing up, you see Connie Sasha’s fiancé, well he is a childhood friend who has stayed by my side from the beginning. We’re really different and at first we didn’t associate each other as friends, we were just kinda around each other. He was the only one I let get close to me until mina.” Jean exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose with his slender fingers. “But there was one thing we had in common, Connie was diagnosed with ADHD when he was young and unlike most children who grew out of it to some extent, he seemed to be getting worse and his behaviour affected me.” Jean paused and I cleared my throat.

“He was the flame to your dynamite.” I whispered and Jean elbowed me with a small smile.

“Couldn’t say it better myself… well yeah, instead of helping him with his rage and anger I egged him on until it was him who was calming me down. Remember when I said, I spray painted my dad’s car.” Jean glanced at me and I nodded. “Well that wasn’t all, I took a crowbar from Connie’s garage and broke all the windows and dented the body of the car and I didn’t even feel elated, I felt nothing. I didn’t feel bad for doing it but I didn’t feel the adrenaline I was expecting. They tested me for ADHD after that, I was fifteen years old, not the typical age of someone diagnosed with it. You know a lot of people have signs of it when their six all the way up to twelve but here I was.... Oh and if you were wondering the tests came back negative. I didn’t have ADHD, I was just a fucked up kid.” His voice was raising now and I was beginning to worry. I breathed in deeply before stretching my arm around his head to rest on his shoulders. Instead of flinching or pulling away the way I expected, he stayed there, neither drinking in my comfort nor moving away from it.

“Mina came into my life shortly after that incident, my grades were atrocious and she was the smartest girl in my year so she tutored me and I tutored her, in certain departments…” As jean rambled on, I couldn’t help but think of how hard it must have been for him to break away from that destructive part of his life. For him to become more of a model citizen and stop being the deviant he was. _Oh Jean_. “…and then he was sucking my dick.” He finished and I choked.

“What?” I asked, honestly confused and extremely shocked.

“I said he pushed me on the bed and then started to suck my dick. God, you weren’t even listening were you? Mina’s brother said I was allowed to borrow Battlefield 2 and when I went into his room he was telling me how he knew Mina wasn’t pleasing me and that he knew how to and honestly I was so creeped out but then his mouth, God it did things to me, I couldn’t even imagine, like Mina had nothing on Marlo… he.” Jean turned his head towards me slowly and he looked down at my thigh.

“We went to France for a school trip, for me it wasn’t a big deal I lived there for half of my life but for the art students, it was amazing. Marlo was there as he was a sixth form student studying art and one of the days he asked me to meet him on Love Lock Bridge were I… were I saw him kissing another guy. Later on that day he told me, guys like me are dispensable but women like Mina were not. I wasn’t bothered when Mina broke up with me, in fact I was counting down the days till she did but Marlo, Marlo did something that broke me.” Jean leant forward and I saw a tear drop from his eye. Within moments I had him tightly in my hold as he wept onto my shoulder, his hands flat against my chest. My fingers struggled to run through his gelled hair and so I opted to stroking his hair back in what I hoped was a comforting manner. His hands soon snaked their way across my back and he clinged even tighter to me.

After several moments of sharp breath intakes and Jean mumbling something angrily, he pushed himself away and stared at me. “It’s okay now anyway. Ever since Marlo, I haven’t felt any attraction to men, in fact I rarely find myself attracted to women. I guess I could blame those two for that.” Jean said, trails of tears lining his flushed cheeks. No attraction to men. No attraction to men. No attraction to men. The words sounded through my head, repeatedly as it dawned on me that I really do not stand a chance with Jean. Yes he said, he’s hardly attracted to women as well but the fact is he still prefers women over men which means, I’m going to be crushing on a straight man for however long his going to be in my life. It wouldn’t be the first time but from past experiences, having a crush or even worse falling for a straight guy is the worst thing imaginable, well besides being murdered and stuff.

“Hey Jean it’s almost one.” I said changing the subject, even though his words still ran through my head.

“Oh yeah, I don’t have to go in for today or next week.” His voice was still soft and I braved a glance at him. He was looking at me intently and I stood up nervous energy running through my body.

“Is it your break?” I asked, walking towards my desk. I pulled out a paper bag from beneath it.

“Something like that.” Jean mumbled and I smiled, I could imagine him saying ‘that’s another story for another day’.

“Well as you’re in no rush to leave, would you like some dough-” Jean was already running towards me before I had a chance to finish. “Whoa there, little man.” I laughed and he blushed angrily. Sitting down at my desk, I opened the bag and handed Jean a doughnut which he took gingerly, before looking down at me.

“Oi Marco, move over.” He murmured and I looked down at the small computer chair I was sitting on.

“Jean, the both of us can’t fit on this thi-” Once again my words were cut short by Jean, attempting to situate himself on the desk chair. If anything his ass didn’t touch nothing but my thighs and the constant movement of his behind rubbing my thigh as he tried to squeeze into the gap was taking its toll on my dick. “Hey, hey Jean. Why don’t we just sit back on the couch.” I offered and Jean clicked his fingers at me as he padded over to the couch, the bag of doughnuts in his hand.

* * *

 

We sat in a comfortable silence for half an hour, Lady Gaga on low in the background creating a relaxed ambience as Jean and I ate some doughnuts. After Jean opening up to me, it felt as though he had driven himself away from me and it's probably due to the fact he shared something extremely personal and I didn't return the favour. Besides the moment has gone now, me bringing up a coming out story or something embarrassing would kill the calm mood we have both settled into. I groaned and Jean looked towards me. I would love to spend the day sitting with him but I do have a job. “Hey Jean, I should probably get back to work, those dresses in the box have centuries of creases that need to be smoothed out.” I gibbered on nervously, as Jean’s narrow eyes, narrowed even more.

“You kicking me out Bott?” Jean murmured, one thin brown brow raised.

“How do you know my last name?” I questioned, looking around the office frantically.

“The sign on your store say’s Bott’s Boutique aaaaaand all of your contact cards have the name Marco Bott on there. Seriously dude, I may not be a detective but I have an eye for details.” He smirked, reaching for his blazer. When Jean stood he put his black blazer on and began to head for the office door. I stood up hastily, following him out.

“Well, you could stay but I think you’ll get bored watching me work.” I replied, not really wanting to kick Jean out. Even though I only have two clients, I still have customers wondering into the store, which means I need the boutique to be at a high standard all day, every day. To the point, I would like to see Jean, outside of the store, like at a bar or in a park or something and maybe if I invite Jean out for a drink, he’ll say yes. _Here’s your chance Marco, don’t blow it_. “Maybe we can go out for some drinks sometime.” I offered and Jean’s thin lips turned into a fox like grin.

“Are you asking me out on a date, Mr. Bott?” Jean questioned and I stammered out ‘No’ but all Jean did was smile and nod. “Why not, actually are you free tonight because after those waterworks I may need to replace my tears with some more alcohol?” Jean asked and I felt a jolt of excitement run from my fingers to my toes.

“Sure, I finish up about four so we could meet for seven or eight, if you’d like.” I suggested and Jean nodded.

“Eight sounds great, in fact it gives me time to paint a little… erm which bar are we going to?” Jean wondered and I scratched my chin.

“Erm, what about The Colossal, it’s a bar in the Shiganshina District.” I offered and Jean pouted.

“I don’t think I’ve been there before but it is in Trost right?” Jean looked at me and I nodded my head vigorously. “Erm Marco, I don’t usually do this but er I’m planning on getting wasted today, I think I need it after my last case, which was from hell. So… what I’m trying ask is if you could be the designated driver? Sorry if that’s asking to much but I live further into Trost and I can’t exactly drive that distance whilst intoxicated.” Jean scratched the shorter parts of his hair and I smiled warmly.

“Of course, I wasn’t planning on drinking much myself. Send me your address and I’ll pick you up around eight.” I said confidently and Jean only raised his hand in a salute as he backed his way towards the door. “Jean, wait!” I called out and he stopped, raising his head. “I don’t even know your last and you know mine, that’s a little weird.” I stated and he raised one eyebrow before turning his back to me. Kirstein was the last thing I heard before he left the store.

Jean Kirstein, a smartly dressed guy with a brash personality. A guy who struggles to control his temper on the inside however is able to pull of a sophisticated façade on the outside. A guy who has had his heart broken by a man yet seeks the comfort in another. _God damn it Marco, you’ve really fallen for a mysterious one haven’t you_. I fell back against my counter and exhaled, my fingers wrapped tightly around the Beryl crystal.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They gonna get drunk, who wants to see them get drunk, I wanna see them get drunk.
> 
> My goal is to upload a new chapter every Friday, as I'm still working on The Sight.. as well, hopefully the wait will be worth it.
> 
> P.S. Don't tell your mum her food tastes like clay or shit... unless you're Jean.


	3. Whiskey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco discovers Jean likes to debate but it appears Jean is the one discovering more shocking truths about Marco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update was a day late, my life has consisted of DRAMAtical Murder and Teen Wolf marathons.
> 
> What can I say about this chapter, drinking games with Jean is dangerous territory... nuff said.

_Marco stood in front of his white wardrobe, long tanned fingers stroking the wooden grooves of the door as his eyes raked across each individual item in his closet. He told himself that this was only a drink out, nothing more and nothing less but the more Marco thought about being alone with Jean Kirstein outside the confines of his store, Marco felt the need to set a good impression. On the countless times Jean has appeared at Bott’s Boutique, Marco has always been dressed in floral printed sweatshirts, pastel cardigans or candy coloured Doc Martens which Jean always took pleasure in critiquing and c _riticising_. In comparison to Marco’s light and airy colour scheme it appeared Jean only wore shades of grey, black, white and blue and it began to irk Marco that the only dark coloured items in his wardrobe were pieces for funerals or past job interviews. He sighed plopping himself onto his double bed, the towel that was around his waist moments ago was long forgotten as he reclined against his pillows thinking about what Jean likes to drink, what Jean likes to listen to, nothing but Jean and it wasn’t long before Marco fell into a comfortable slumber._

“Holy mother of Gaga.” I shouted, sitting up suddenly and regretting it as a sharp pain shot through my skull. “Ugh.” I moaned, instantly repenting the fact that I decided to take a nap after the excitement of seeing Jean again finally crashed down on me. “I am so screwed.” I mumbled, as I padded over to my dresser. Once I was at least wearing a pair of boxers and socks, I walked over to the wardrobe and pulled out a white t-shirt, dark teal jeans and a leather jacket I had stuffed into the corner of my wardrobe. It was something Krista had picked out for me when she complained I wasn’t a badass and that I should dress more like Ymir, in the heat of the moment I had spent $1382.00 of my student loan on a Pierre Balmain biker jacket, that I have only worn twice but who would have thought it would come in handy now. “Thank you Krista, you goddess.”

Once I was dressed, I teased my wavy hair with some hair moisturiser and sprayed myself generously with Paco Rabanne Black XS L'exces. It was already coming up to half seven and I still had to drive all the way from Jinae to Trost and yet as time passed by, I couldn’t move myself from in front of the mirror. Am I too dressed up? Maybe I’m trying too hard. No, it’s fine it’s just an innocent drink with another guy. A guy who probably won’t even notice the effort. I will not touch him. I will not kiss him. I will not suck his dick in the bathroom stool like that one time in university, the dark Marco has gone, that’s all in the past. I will resist every urge to push him up against the wall and fuck him till he can’t walk.

* * *

 

After a few slaps to the face, I was already in my Nissan Juke, Lana Del Rey playing in the background. Jean had sent me his address earlier and I followed the robotic voice of the sat nav, as I drove the quiet evening roads of Trost. When I finally arrived, it dawned on me how unfamiliar this area of Trost was, it was slightly suburban and as I pulled up outside of the house, the air left my body. I’m sure this is the right address. Looking at my phone for clarification, I was in fact outside of the right house, a house that was extremely beautiful. Every house on this street were shades of creams, browns and brick reds, all except Jean’s whose home was black bricked with a white trim. “Only Jean.” I mumbled as I beeped the horn. After a few minutes, the door opened to reveal Jean, whose head was peeking from behind the door, he waved around and I wound down the window. “What did you say?” I shouted over the console and I could see his eyes rolling from over here. Jean made a beckoning motion and I finally got the hint.

Climbing out of the Juke, I jogged up the porch steps to Jean’s house and he held the door open for me. “Dude, don’t you want to pre drink or something?” He asked, his thin lips quirked up into a half smile. I know I should answer, I should really answer right this second but seeing Jean outside of his typical slim fit suit was a real sight to see. He stood there in a white V-neck, black skinny jeans and red socks. His hair looked clean as if he had washed it when he showered, instead of being slicked back like usual, the longer strands of his hair were coifed while his shorter sides were gelled down. “Hello. Marco. Did. You. Want. A. Drink. Before. We. Go?” Jean stopped between each word and I felt my face heat up.

“No thank you, I’m the designated driver remember.” I said, shrugging my shoulders. Jean only shook his head with a defiant expression.

“Marco, you are not the designated driver. We are getting drunk here, calling a cab and getting even more drunk at that bar and then we can get deathly drunk when we come back here for more drinks, at like six in the morning you’ll help me to the toilet while I puke my guts out over anything but the toilet.” Jean yammered on and I was pretty sure, I was as white as Casper the friendly fricking ghost.

“Jean, we are not getting that drunk.” I shouted and Jean scrunched up his face like a child.

“But it’s a Friday night.” He groaned.

“And I have work tomorrow.” I yelled.

“Connie would do it.” Jean wailed.

“Well I’m not Connie, I’m Marco and I will not get deathly drunk with you.” I shouted finalising the argument. I will not get to that state, not with all this dignity. “Besides Jean you’re a Lawyer, I’m pretty sure you’re not allowed to get smashed because of your status or something.” I wondered and Jean only groaned louder.

“Fuck my status, what’s the point of having a high paying job if I can’t even spend my wages on alcohol.” Jean looked up at me with a pout and I laughed.

“Well Jean, at the rate you’re going, you’ll only buy excessive amounts of alcohol.” I glanced around the small hallway, shifting anxiously. “Erm Jean, as I’m here could you show me around?” I asked nervously not wanting to intrude on his privacy yet wanting to do exactly that. This is Jean’s den, his fortress, probably one of the only places close to his heart. This is the place where he has memories, some good, some bad. The place I’ll see him at his best and at his worst, well that’s if he ever invites me inside again.

“Sure.” He smirked before spinning on his heel. The first room we entered was much like the outside, the living room was a mixture of black and white. There was a black Flat Screen TV that I was guessing to be 60”, it sat on a black glass table which had a PlayStation Four on the second shelf and on either side of the TV where black slim speakers. On the black tiled floors was a huge white rug which lay in front of a black fireplace. The fireplace was a beautiful thing, yes it wasn’t a real fireplace powered with logs and all but the piece itself gave the modern living room a more homey touch. There were also two black leather sofas against the plain white walls. As I stood there taking in the finer details of his house, Jean watched. I felt his eyes on me and it only made me feel embarrassed. To him this room is probably nothing but to me it’s something truly incredible especially in comparison to my shabby little living room. It was also the last room we entered.

“Wow Jean, your place is amazing.” I gushed and Jean blushed a thing I’ve begun to see more frequently.

“Well compared to the first place I lived in, this place is heaven. My old apartment was pretty much hell but you know, I wanted to move out from home pretty bad and mid-way through my second year of uni, I saved up for a nice place but it wasn’t enough of course, it took me many months in the office and numerous successful cases for me to finally get the haven I wanted. It also took years to get everything together but here we are.” Jean smiled brightly and I bit my bottom lip at the sight.

“You should be so proud Jean.” I said, walking towards a floor shelf full of DVDs. I almost jumped when I saw Jean beside me and he laughed.

“You did say, if I wanted to sneak up on you I should change my shoes… see anything you like?” He asked and as I looked at his DVD collection the only thing I could think was yeah you.

* * *

 

I’m not sure how long we were sitting on his sofa but Jean was already half way through his second bottle of Jack Daniels which I kindly refused every time he stuck his glass beneath my nose. After looking at his collection, I spotted a copy of the 1985 Teen Wolf which led Jean and I into an intense argument of remakes vs. originals. I was siding with remakes and to be honest I wasn’t expecting things to get so heated. “The TV series is actually pretty awesome, you should watch it.” I said as I looked at the DVD case in my hand.

“No way.” Jean said before gulping down a shot of Jack. “I will not watch something as preposterous as that.” He mumbled with a wave of his hand.

“What! Not even one episode, come on Jean, it’s really good. Scott McCall-” before I could even finish my sentence, Jean was fanning his hands wildly.

“Scott fucking McCall, in the original his name was Scott Howard.. wait a second is Stiles still Stiles?” He asked leaning slightly towards me with a serious expression.

“Yeah Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski.” I spoke quietly, unsure of how he would react. Jean fell back his empty glass limp in his hand.

“Well thank fuck for that.” He sat up quickly, whilst offering me another glass, which I refused once again. It was when Jean said there’s probably just a ton of sex to override the ‘shitty plot’ (his words) that I snapped.

“No there is not tons of sex scenes, in fact I think there was only one sex scene and that was with Derek so everything was okay, besides this isn’t True Blood… that show is awful!” I shouted and Jean’s amber eyes lit up.

“Are you fucking crazy, true blood is glorious in every way possible.” Jean almost spilt his drink from his excitement.

“What, jean it is nothing like the books. It’s just boobs, blood and vulgar language.” I mumbled and Jean only looked at me with disgust.

“Who the fuck reads the books?” He questioned and it was my turn to look disgusted.

“I do and Jean, wasn’t it minutes ago you were complaining that originals were better than remakes, well books are the originals and almost everything adapted from a book is practically a remake because nothing’s the same.” I explained, feeling my cheeks going red with exasperation.

“Nuh uh. No way, books are for nerds. Who wants to read the sex scenes when you can watch it?” Jean murmured with a cross of his arms and I mentally slapped myself in the face. The argument had ended with a truce, to prove that books are better than their adaptations, I have to read jean a chapter from a chosen book (only because he’s too lazy to read it himself) and to prove that watching a fight scene is better than reading one, I have to watch the adaptation of that said book. Of course, it doesn’t have to be a fight scene or sex scene for the matter but the fact is whichever scene I choose from the book we have to see it visually.

It was nearing ten o’clock now and we still haven’t moved from the sofa. “Hey Jean, I could really do with a drink now.” I croaked out, my voice dry and hoarse from all the shouting and no liquids (Jean refused to give me a drink unless it was his whiskey). He only smiled his usual sly smile, before climbing off the sofa while attempting to pull me with him. Jean pulled on a pair of stunning but expensive looking black boots and the Black leather sleeved blazer jacket he wore when I first saw him.

* * *

 

Inside of the Juke, Jean gave his approval of the car, claiming he expected me to drive a yellow Volkswagen Beetle but he also gave his disapproval of Lana and every other CD inside of it. After a journey of quiet as Jean quickly sobered up to an almost sober state, we entered The Colossal and I ordered Jean to find a table while I paid for the drinks. After a small search, I found jean bobbing his head in a dark corner of the bar. It seemed not only my heart but my long since kissed lips were happy to have him alone in that corner. Sitting down, I handed Jean a double of Jack Daniels and took a long awaited sip of my Strawberry Daiquiri.

“Dude, seriously a cocktail.” Jean mused, as his own drink hovered beneath his lips.

“What, it tastes good. It’s got a dashing of rum, a sprinkle of sugar, some strawberry schnapps, a squeezing of lime aaaaaand a ton of strawberries. What more could I want?” I beamed before taking another long sip of my drink. “Besides, it’s part of my five a day.” I moaned with delight as the sweet liquid coated my tongue.

“Erm, I don’t know Marco, maybe a man’s drink and really five a day, what are you a six year old.” Jean murmured before finally taking a sip of the shot he was holding all through his mock horror. I rolled my eyes.

“What’s your definition of a man?” I mused, moving closer to him and crossing my legs.

“Well hello, me. I am the perfect definition of a man. I’m tall, not very dark but I’m handsome. I look great in both smart and casual wear, I can take my whiskey and I have the greatest dick anybody will see.” Jean grinned and I sighed, wanting to be a judge of the latter.

“Well.” I chimed in. “I’m tall, dark and handsome. My casual wear you hate but I’ve been told I look amazing by all the ladies and I look rather dashing in a suit, I can take my rum very well thank you very much, I just prefer to drink it sweetly and I’ll let you know that my dick is so magnificent even straight guys want a piece of it.” I was already at the end of my cocktail and I felt the confidence already seeping through my blood. Did I really drink it that fast, I blame Jean for dehydrating me for two whole hours.

“The straight guys?” Jean questioned, a look of shock on his face. “Is it that good? As a bro, I demand to see it.” Jean ordered and I choked out an awkward laugh.

“Jean, I am not showing you my dick.” I shouted and a couple nearby turned their attention to us, burying my head in my arms, I shrank away from their wary eyes.

“Dude, if you do not show me your cock in the next minute, I will just follow you into the bathroom and peek over the urinal.” Jean murmured and I only groaned in response. “Marco, it’s the bro code.” He whined.

“I don‘t know much about no bro code but I know for sure, that’s not on it.” I said, lifting my head to glare at him. “Besides guys don’t go around showing other guys their dicks.” I finished and Jean only looked at me wide mouthed.

“Marco, what did you do through school? Do you not know the patriotic pyramid of power? The guy with the biggest dick in the changing room is basically the king. Last slice of pizza in the canteen and his behind you give it to him, you’re girlfriend talks about him all the time, give her to him. You see its power by the shclong. Luckily for me I had the second biggest, well length ways anyw-” I cut Jean off by placing my hand over his mouth. Something wet and warm began prodding at my palm and I withdrew my hand. “As I was, wait what was I saying?” Jean asked and I sighed in relief, the feeling of his tongue moments ago still present on my palm.

“You were saying that you’d buy the next round.” I lied and Jean raised an eyebrow mouthing ‘right’ before climbing over me to get out of our small secluded area. When he was out of sight, I threw my head back and exhaled loudly. _Jean, you really are something aren’t you._

When Jean returned, he had what I assumed were two shots of Jack Daniel’s held between his fingers and my cocktail in the other. I accepted it so that he could put his own drinks down and as I was about to stand he pushed me back and climbed over me with a smile on his face. Relaxing back onto the plush seat Jean pointed a slim finger to my glass.

“If you don’t mind, could I have a taste of that?” Jean gestured to the cocktail and I pushed it towards him. He took a sip and his face scrunched up slightly. “Wow, it’s really sweet but it is nice, I can see why you like it but for me I need to feel the fire.” And with that Jean, took a swig of his shot. “So Marco, apart from that depressing woman singing in the car, what other artists do you listen to?” Jean asked, his amber eyes glistening considering Jean has already had a bottle and a half of Jack, I’m surprised he can continue to drink anymore.

“Well I like a variety of artists but Lana is my favourite, I kinda like BANKS and FKA Twigs as well.. they have such beautiful voices.” I could feel myself smiling, all three women are favourites of mine and just the thought of walking around my small apartment in the summertime with either one of them singing, fills me with glee.

“I don’t know who any of them are.” Jean smiled apologetically, his long fingers drumming lightly on the table. “Maybe you can show me them one day… I’ve spent my whole life listening to the same style of music, sometimes it’s good to change I guess.” Jean’s lips parted slowly and I began to feel my heart beating at a quicker pace. He leaned closer, his head gradually getting closer before he dipped his head and took a sip of my drink.

“Wow Jean, if you wanted to kiss me you could have asked.” I laughed slightly and his head whipped up cheeks red, it’s probably from the alcohol. “Anyway what do you listen to? The destruction of life, the sounds of death.” I asked, lifting my glass up and away from Jean’s wondering lips.

“Ha ha very funny Marco.” Jean said sarcastically with a roll of his eyes. “I used to listen to a lot of KoRn growing up, they were my favourite band but now I listen to the Arctic Monkey’s. Holy shit, that’s a real difference.” He smiled, while slouching further into the seat.

“I know KoRn, Ymir plays them all the time, it’s his favourite band and the Arctic Monkey’s, I like their newest album, I used to play it in the car all the time but I left it at Ymir’s the last time I went down… Hey you and Ymir would get on so well.”

“Who’s Ymir?” Jean asked, looking up at me from his slouched position.

“Ymir is a friend I knew since we were itty bitty kiddies, he is like a brother to me.” I smiled widely and Jean grunted.

“I don’t have any siblings so I always counted Connie as a brother.” Jean sat up and leaned on the table top.

“Really, do you remember that day in the store when I told you I have a twin sister.” Jean almost spat out his drink, his eyes wide.

“Seriously! How the fuck did I forget that. Is she hot?” He asked, suddenly interested in my answer. I felt my stomach drop and a horrible taste was in my mouth, in moments like this it was the taste of jealously. Every guy I’ve met who I’ve had some sort of interest in, whenever they learn I have a twin sister they always ask things like, is she attractive? Is she single? And it just drives me insane, I should have known Jean would be one of them.

“Well she looks exactly like me, with longer hair and I guess a less masculine jawline but yeah we’re identical.” I looked at Jean and he sat there staring at me.

“Do you have any pictures of the two of you, so I could compare?” He asked and I dug around for my phone. Honestly I wasn’t expecting him to ask that. I handed him my phone with a recent picture of us, at my Grandmother’s funeral. I was wearing a black suit with a white shirt and red tie, I remember that day I had on green socks so at least I was wearing the Italian colours for my Nonna. My arm was around my sister’s waist who clung to my side, it was the moment before she broke down into tears, her black eyeliner still neat and the mascara only on her lashes and not her cheeks.

I also remember Leonora wasn’t able to find a dress for the funeral. I spent two weeks creating a dress for her, I never left my room, and my only focus was creating something special for my sister. So here she stood wearing a black dress, thick black lace covering her chest area which then tapered into a very fine cotton that clung to her full figure. I was always jealous of my sister’s beauty but on that day, I wanted it to shine.

Jean sat there my phone in his hand, his mouth was slightly parted and his eyes were narrowed. “She’s really beautiful and she really looks like you too…. You have the same eyes, the same nose, even the same amount of freckles, wow real twins. I’ve never met a twin before.” Jean smiled and handed me back my phone, I glanced at the image one last time before locking my phone and putting it back into my pocket.

“I suppose, you’d like her to be honest I’m surprised you’re not telling me all the stuff you’d do to her, just like every other guy I’ve met.” I spat out, a little too venomously. Jean looked at me shocked and I sighed before standing up and pushing away from the table. “I’m going to the restroom.” When I left our small corner, I went straight to the men’s toilets and beelined to the mirrors. I stood before my reflection, annoyed at the effrontery of my behaviour. Leonora and I, may look identical but our biology is different and it’s because of that biology why the men I’m attracted to choose her. “Come on Marco get a grip of yourself.” I ran my fingers through my hair and exhaled before exiting the restroom. When I approached the table, Jean had disappeared and I felt my stomach drop. I noticed his jacket was still there so I sat down gingerly, my eyes scanning the dark bar for Jean. After a few minutes of me anxiously panting every time I say a blonde walk by, Jean’s head popped around the corner and he looked down at me.

“Oh you’re back.” Jean rasped, as he climbed over me to get into his corner, the smell of smoke was strong and I coughed involuntarily. “Oh sorry man, I went to have a quick one, does it bother you?” Jean asked, his eyes were glistening and there was an almost worried look on his face.

“No, no it’s fine... I just didn’t know you smoked.” Jean had picked up his last shot and had emptied it before my own glass reached my lips.

I was about to tell him to slow down, when the bartender walked over with a tray of shots. “Now.” Jean said, rubbing his hands together. “The games begin.” He smirked devilishly. “Let’s play never have I ever.” Jean gestured to the twelve shots lined up on the tray.

“Jesus jean, how much did that come up to?” I shouted and he only smiled sweetly. Even though I had sulked earlier, Jean was still here heart set on drinking the night away.

“A lot but it was worth it for you.” He smiled even wider and I was afraid for his thin face and my now fast beating heart. “Ohkay, I start… Never have I ever smoked weed.” Jean stated and neither of us picked up a shot. As much as I hate this game, this is possibly one of the quickest ways to learn things about Jean.

“Never have I ever ran away from the police.” I said and I wasn’t shocked to see Jean pick up a shot glass.

“Now that was cruel, you knew I’d get that… oh yeah these ones are for you, I thought you might prefer Sambuca to Vodka. Okay, never have I ever read the Bible.” Jean replied, licking the remains of the vodka from his shot glass. I picked up a glass and tipped it back, feeling the liquorice sweet liquid slide down my throat. “I knew you were a goody too shoes.” Jean smiled.

“Never have I ever, flashed someone.” I smiled, knowing full well Jean was going to pick up a glass and as predicted he did. “Okay, you have to tell one, why you ran away from the police and two, who did you flash?” I asked and Jean smiled widely, loving the attention.

“I spray painted an underpass when I was about sixteen, I didn’t expect any police to be around at that time, luckily for me the gas mask I was wearing hid my face and as I was able to go into the McDonalds rest room and change from out of my hoodie so that they wouldn’t recognise me. Pretty cool escape huh, well for the flashing, I’ve been flashing people all my life. When I was six in the playground I flashed a girl behind the bushes who ran of crying because she didn’t know what a dick was, when I was fourteen I flashed a girl who had me sent to the principal’s office and almost excluded for indecency. I also flashed an old man once for calling me a small cock punk and well I gave him an eyeful.” When Jean had finished I was fighting back a few giggles.

“Jean, you can’t go around flashing the elderly, they’ll have a heart attack.” I giggled and Jean held a hand to his chest.

“Well that would be awful wouldn’t it, accidently killing an old guy because he couldn’t handle the perfection called my dick. I can’t get my dick arrested, he wouldn’t survive in the cells, the poor guy.” Jean wiped an imaginary tear and I looked at him straight in the eyes.

“Jean, honey I think you should be more worried about your b-hole in jail.” I giggled and Jean barked out a laughed.

“Okay, never have I ever had a foursome.” Jean said, looking at me intently. I puffed out some air before raising a glass. His eyes widened and he slammed his hands on the table, tipping a few contents from some of the glasses. “Spill it!” he shouted and I rubbed my eyes.

“I had a foursome once and it was an okay experience, I just don’t like to share what’s mine.” I replied, trying to keep the answer short but Jean wanted to know more.

“What was the dick to chick ratio?” Jean asked and I felt myself begin to slowly dissipate into the air.

“Two to two.” I lied and Jean rubbed his bottom lip.

“Your hiding something aren’t you but it’s cool I won’t pry… for now, I’ll get you more drunk first.” I exhaled at that, at least he was giving me a break.

“Never have I ever pulled someone twice my age.” I was running out of questions but another of Jean’s glasses was empty before I even looked up at him. “Seriously.” I asked, tilting my head to the side with a frown.

“Yep, she was the mother of this guy I hated at school. I saw her when I was coming home from Uni and she invited me round to catch up or some shit and well yeah, I fucked a milf.” Jean looked pleased but I felt rather disgusted.

“Jean, that is foul. You can’t go around sleeping with people’s Madre’s.” I chastised and Jean raised his eyebrows.

“The fucks a Madre? And my dick can fuck whatever it wants to fuck… Never have I ever given a blowjob?” Jean whispered. Oh no, it’s all over now. I could lie, I could lie right this second but from my previous lie, Jean will know, the guys a freaking Lawyer for crying out loud he can smell a lie miles away and besides lying will only make things worse. I lifted a glass up and tipped it back. “You, what?” Jean screamed, a look of confusion on his face. I guess he didn’t expect me to have done that.

“I have performed oral on a man.” I stated blandly, not really bothering to see if he looked disgusted.

“Did you swallow?” He asked. I looked up startled but Jean just stared at me with an inquisitive look on his face.

“Yes, I did.” I replied.

“Marco how many times, have you given head?” He asked, moving slightly closer and I huffed out a breath.

“Every time I sleep with a guy.” I answered truthfully. I’m not sure what made me confess this to Jean. It could have been the excessive amounts of alcohol I’ve consumed. It could have been the fact Jean has the intensity of a shark waiting for any sign of blood before attacking. It could have been the fact there’s this presence around him that makes me feel comfortable and safe enough to talk about things even Ymir and Krista don’t know. Although me having a dick inside of my mouth on numerous occasions is something my friend’s know about and now so does Jean.

I guess my sexuality is out there now and somehow I don’t think Jean feels uncomfortable about it. He may boast about masculinity and how enamoured he is with the female body but his thigh keeps brushing against mine and every time I look at him his pale face is tinted pink. He is drunk and I know now should be the time to take him home but a few more home truths shouldn’t hurt. “So Jean, have you ever performed oral on a man?” I asked boldly and Jean looked at me shell shocked.

“Holy fucking shit Marco, of course not. No offence to you but I’ve only ever had it done to me and well that was that one time.” Jean was shaking his hands hysterically which only made me laugh, his movements were erratic and his eyes were barely open.

“Well was it good?” I pried and Jean smiled.

“It was the best head, I’ve ever had.” Jean’s eyes glistened again and he looked at me with a lust filled look. “I could kill for some head right now actually.” My heart beat sped up slightly. Could Jean be inferring something? _Does he expect me to, oh my God yes, I’d get under this table right now, I don’t even care anymore_. “Do you think I could pull a chick in here?” Jean looked at me and I could only shrink back into my seat. Of course Jean wasn’t aiming those lustful eyes at me.

“I don’t know maybe.” I sipped at the remainder of my cocktail and Jean swatted at my hand.

“Ay Marco, we need to finish these shots first… hey, what do you think of her?” Jean asked, pointing to a dark haired girl at the bar. “Do you think she’d, oh wait… no chance.” The dark haired girl pulled the ginger girl beside her into a kiss. “Dammit, oi Marco. Why the long face?” Jean’s words were beginning to slur and I could only look at him with a serious face.

“I was born like this.” I replied coldly and Jean began to laugh and it wasn’t long before I was joining him. “Jean, never have I ever had sex whilst drunk.” I asked and Jean picked up a shot. “Seriously, Jean having sex whilst drunk is a disaster.” I shouted and Jean smiled.

“Dude, duuuuuuude I don’t think you’ll ever understand the full power of my endurance.” Jean raised a brow and slammed the empty glass down. “However I don’t think I can see anymore.” Jean slurred, his eyes opening and closing before he fell slumped on me. His chin resting against my chest and his head tilted into an awkward position. Helping him to sit up, I stood, my own legs buckling beneath me before I to fell back onto the couch. “Dude, I won’t allow you to dr-” Jean collapsed on me again and I breathed out impatiently.

“Jean, wake up… I can’t leave my car in the parking lot. I’ll get a ticket.” I shouted, waking him from his small stupor.

“I’ll pay for it, look here… call a cab.” Jean could barely get his phone out and I ended up reaching into his jeans pocket and pulling it out, he unlocked the screen and told me to search for Trost Taxi.

* * *

 

After struggling to carry a slumped Jean out of The Colossal, I walked past my Juke and Jean had promised he’d pay for any tickets or even for the car being towed away. I wouldn’t allow that of course but it’s the thought that counts. We leaned against the Juke breathing in the fresh air, as all of the alcohol caught up to us. Apart from the fact my vision was beginning to become blurry I felt fine, I couldn’t say the same for Jean though. His small frame clung to me as he tried and failed to hold himself up and by the time the taxi arrived, I had staggered towards it, Jean clinging to me as I carried him princess style to the car.

Jean had fallen asleep on the ride back to his house and so I paid the driver and carried him once again princess style, up the steps of his front porch and to his door. Digging around his blazer pocket, I located the keys and after several attempts of figuring out which of the four keys unlock the front door whilst attempting to manage all of Jean’s weight with one arm, I had the door opened. On the way inside I accidently hit his head against the side of the door and his roar of pain was enough to startle me, if I was sober I might have muttered out apologies over and over again but considering my intoxicated state I could only giggle as Jean moaned in pain. I dumped Jean on the sofa, as gently as I could before running back to the front door and locking it. When I returned, I sat on the floor with a sigh, Jean mumbling ‘undress me’ in the background.

And so that’s how I ended up attempting to help Jean from out of his skinny jeans, which had tangled around his legs. He lay on the couch his slim legs thrashing as the material continued to tangle around his legs further. “Fucking hell, Marco don’t just stand there halp meh!” Jean shouted, I could only stand and watch his futile attempts.

“Halp meh.” I mocked and Jean screeched in frustration. “You know Jean, it would help if you had taken your boots off.” I teased, as I walked around the sofa and got down to my knees. Untying one of his boots, I pulled it off and placed it on the floor as delicately as I could in my drunken state. This living room is just too beautiful to ruin. Untying his second boot I did the same and when I looked up at Jean, my mouth dropped. _I think my dick just moved_. He lay there, his pale legs raised, jeans pulled all the way to his ankles, his face red from all the shouting. _God, I want him_. Dragging his Jeans off, Jean looked down at me from between his legs.

“About fucking time Bott, I was beginning to think your were staring at my butt… wait a second Marco Butt, can I call you Marco Butt from now on?” Jean asked and I shook my head. “Well butt, I mean Bott sorry, take me to my room.” Jean reached out an arm and I pulled him up, he shrugged out of his blazer and threw it to the floor.

Helping Jean up the stairs was one of the worst predicaments I’ve found myself in and I’ve found myself in some pretty messed up situations. I had to give him a piggyback half way up his stairs as he was practically hanging off my back. When I approached the top of the stairs there were four doors and I had no idea which room was Jean’s. “Which door.” I asked and Jean, pointed to the door at the far end of the corridor. Stumbling to the door as Jean’s weight began to become unbearable, I opened the door to the room and threw Jean on the bed.

“Holy fucking shit Marco!” He shouted, his chest heaving as he sat up.

“Well that woke you up didn’t it?” I mumbled. “Do you need a glass of water?” I asked and Jean shook his head. “Okay, I’m gonna go crash downstairs, if you need anything just shout to me… You wouldn’t believe it but I’m pretty good with alcohol so I’ll be sobered up in no time.” I looked at Jean sitting there, he had an almost blank look in his eyes as he shook his head.

“Hey, stay up here… this bed is fucking huge, we can both fit on it but don’t do any gay shit.” Jean said huskily. He could barely pull the quilt back far enough for him to disappear beneath and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Stop laughing.” Jean mumbled, his voice muffled underneath the sheets. “Get in already, its cold.” Jean demanded. I took of my leather jacket, boots and jeans before climbing in.

“Using me for my body heat.” I mumbled facing Jean whose back was towards me.

“Hmmm… If you share a bed with me, you have to pay me with your body heat.” Jean whispered. He turned his head to face me and I leaned back suddenly realising how close I was behind him. “Were you trying to spoon me dude?” Jean asked, his eyes narrowed.

“No, I wo-woul-wouldn’t do-do-do that.” I stuttered, nervously and Jean only laughed.

“Of course you wouldn’t, it’s only logical that I’d be the big spoon, I have more dominance and masculinity.” Jean said softly, I could tell he was tired but that didn’t explain his ideals of masculinity or his ideals of dominance. I practically undressed him, carried him up the stairs and helped him into bed, well placed him on top of it. If anything I have the rights to be the big spoon. I didn’t argue this with Jean even though I would have liked to.

“Jean, are you awake?” I whispered and the lump under the sheets beside me moved with a grunt.

“Hmmm… Marco this isn’t a sleepover.” Jean hissed and I shrunk beneath the sheets. So this is what a drunk Jean Kirstein looks like. His personality is amplified and his behaviour is just as boyish but there’s something almost vulnerable about Jean when he’s drunk. I can’t quite put my finger on it but it feels as though Jean is easily swayed whilst under the influence and if I wasn’t a man of honour, God knows what sort of things I could have done to him. It irks me how dependent he is on someone else whilst intoxicated and with more and more men prowling on innocent people regardless of their gender, I feel the need to protect Jean even more. Looking over at the figure beside me, I smiled. _Goodnight Jean_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, my friends Jean's bro code is gay as hell but I'll tell you the boys in my secondary school pretty much did the same thing. I never did understand the 'Patriotic Pyramid'.
> 
> Will Jean puke all over the place? Is Marco going to make it to work? Does Jean sneakily peek at Marco's peenie?
> 
> Well I'm not really sure yet myself so I'll see you guys next week Friday.


	4. Anchor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco see's Jean in a new light, when he confesses a truth, Marco wasn't prepared for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm sorry for the late update.. I tried to give myself a schedule of when I should update this but damn I've been reading Tokyo Ghoul and Holy God it's awesome, I highly recommend it.
> 
> Anyway, this chapter I'm introducing an androgynous character, I'm not going to say who as of right this minute but I will say I've always imagined this character as genderfluid and I also have this idea that they have Asperger's Syndrome which is why their so smart... That was not a hint at all *wink wink*

_At the center of the white ceiling was a red lightshade, covered with intricate black roses. It matched the lampshade on the bedside table beside Marco. In his slightly foggy haze, it only took a few surveys of the room before Marco realised he wasn’t inside of his own bed. It could have been realising that the red and black bedspread covering his body, was not his own or the fact that there was only one single pillow beneath his head but it was really the sleeping form pressed up against him that gave it away. Marco wasn’t at home, he was at Jean’s. After going over the alcohol limit the night before, Jean had persuaded Marco to stay at his and as much as Marco hated abandoning his Juke, he was happy to oblige._

I pushed myself up into a seating position, trying my best to not wake Jean who was curled at my side, his back towards me. He must have found his way over here sometime during the night. I peered over at all the space on his side of the bed and I suddenly noticed how dangerously close I was to the edge. Well he did say he likes the heat. _Am I really that hot Jean?_ Chuckling quietly, I looked around the room. Like the living room and I’m assuming every other room in this monochrome house, the bedroom was black and white, with a few red objects here and there. For an example there are four red picture frames, arranged in a diamond shape on one of the walls. I can’t really see from the bed but it appears that they contain artwork. _I wonder if it’s Jean_. There were also a few black shelves on the white walls, one of the shelves in particular had a vase containing weeks old dead flowers, black picture frames and a few figurines. _No way_. Shifting my weight to the edge of the bed, I slid out carefully and tiptoed towards the shelf.

Inside the black picture frame was what appeared to be a younger Jean his hair dyed red, a long fringe covering one side of his face, beside him was another young man, the extremely low cut hair dyed black with the short frohawk the same red. This is what Jean looked like when he was younger, well he wasn't kidding about one thing, he was a punk. The thing that caught my attention was the 1:4 scale Darth Maul figurine, next to figure was a smaller children’s toy version and a Lego piece too. I smiled at the thought of Jean placing these figures together. The last figurine on the shelf was of a man wearing a pinstripe suit, his hair was slicked back and a stern look on his face. This man reminded me of Jean and I smiled at the thought of Jean idolising this man however as I looked further down at the figure, I saw the knife and axe in both of his hands and my smile faltered.

“Patrick Bateman.” Jean’s voice was husky and thick from sleep and I almost brought the shelf down when I jumped. When I looked around, Jean was sitting up, rubbing his eyes with a yawn, his hair was sticking up all over the place. “Haven’t you seen American Psycho?” He questioned and I shook my head. Jean climbed out of his bed and I averted my eyes from the slight protrusion in his boxers and instead focused on his narrowed eyes. He walked up beside me and looked at the figure before turning to me. “American Psycho, is an incredible film. It focuses on Patrick Bateman someone who can be argued as the protagonist and the antagonist because well not everybody goes around killing hookers and hobos.” Jean smiled and I looked at him wide eyed.

“Do you go around killing hookers and hobos?” I asked suddenly, thanking God that I wasn’t a hooker or a hobo.

“Of course not Marco but anyway it’s based on a book.” Jean raised an eyebrow and I crossed my arms.

“You want me to read a book about a suit wearing murderer.” I looked down at him and he pouted. God damn that pout.

“Please.” He whined. “Don’t you remember our bet, it was like seventeen hours ago.”

“It wasn’t even that long ago.” I retorted.

“See you remembered but let me refresh your memory anyway. You have to read a book and I have to show you the film.” Jean wriggled his eyebrows and I leaned backwards. “Whoa, does my breath smell that bad?” He breathed into his hand and wrinkled his face. “Holy God.” Shaking his head, Jean turned the full intensity of his gaze on me and I felt myself shrink back.

“Okay, the deal was for me to read a scene from a book, not the whole thing!” I shouted and Jean shook his head.

“No I think you heard it wrong… you read the whole book too me and then we watch the film.” Jean crossed his arms, mimicking me.

“Look I would argue with you, I would love to make a valid point about how me reading three hundred and more pages could take more than a day but I’m too hungry and exhausted too even think of why this bet is ridiculous.” I pushed gently at Jean’s shoulders and walked away. Picking up my jeans, I heard the pitter patter of his footsteps. Jean climbed up on to his bed and watched me.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asked, whilst sitting cross legged.

“One, to go and get my car which you practically forced me to leave. Two, to go and get a shower and three, to eat the entirety of my cupboards.” I ticked off each with my finger and Jean only groaned, falling back onto his bed.

“Can’t you just do all of that here… I mean, I have spare towels and stuff and there’s bound to be some food downstairs for you to eat.” He scratched at the back of his head and I lowered my jeans.

“I don‘t know, I’m not really one for showering in someone else’s house and I can’t mooch all of your food.” I mumbled. Jean sat up and sighed.

“Sure, you can.” Jean stood up suddenly, pulling me by the arm. He led me downstairs and into the kitchen, pulling at my arm the entire time. Once inside the kitchen, Jean walked over to one of his black cupboards and opened it. “Heh, I guess neither of us are eating.” Jean mused, I leaned to the side, to observe. There was a loaf of bread that was almost completely blue and a few unfinished packets of biscuits.

“Jean! Is this why you’ve been coming to the store so much lately?” I asked and he turned towards me with a sly smile.

“I guess, I spent so much time eating your food, I forgot to make sure I had my own.” Jean spoke coolly, as if this was nothing to him. I can’t believe he was depending on me to feed him. Grabbing him by the shoulders I began to shake him. “Okay, okay! If we go to the grocery store, I promise I’ll make you the best breakfast you’ve ever had.” Jean raised his pinkie finger and I rolled my eyes before bringing my own up to link with his own. “But first, let’s get showered.” Jean turned away from me and I followed him back up his stairs. With his blazer jacket on, Jean almost looks average built but without his jacket, I can see his much smaller. His back is slightly broad for his frame and it tapers into a very slim waist. His legs are quite slim as well but there is some muscle definition to it. As I examined Jean’s legs, my eyes were drawn to something on his calf.

“You like roses?” I asked and Jean stopped at the top of the staircase.

“Huh.” He opened his mouth up in confusion and I motioned at his leg. Tilting his leg outwards Jean saw the tattoo and made an ‘o’ shape with his lips. “Oh yeah, I almost forget I have this thing. Yeah I guess you could say I like roses, they were all I drew to start with, I’m not sure how but I always related the rose to the coochie, you know.” Jean lead me into his room, were he headed towards a set of chest of drawers. “I began to draw roses with more female related parts, like instead of having a petal in the middle, I’d draw the labia… I don’t know, I guess at some stage I thought roses were delicate and the coochie is just as delicate. Well anyway this is one of my first pieces, the piece were I began to make the connection.” Jean pulled out a blue towel and a black flannel before walking towards me. Lifting his leg onto the bed, he began to point at the tattoo. At a closer inspection, I could see the rose was pink with shades of red to imitate the shadows. Some of the petals were replaced with the labia lips and it was strangely beautiful. “You see it?” Jean looked up at me and I nodded.

“Wow, you created that? Holy crab apple Jean, that’s amazing.” I praised, which only made him blush. “It’s really beautiful, do you have any more tattoos?” I asked and Jean smiled.

“Yeah, but only the V.I.Ps can see them.” Jean winked and I rolled my eyes. “Here.” He threw the towel and flannel towards me and I caught them. “You can shower first.”

* * *

 

It was strange seeing a room inside of Jean’s house that wasn’t monochrome. The bathroom was outfitted as a ‘P’ shaped shower-bath suite, with a see-through glass shower door. The walls were white and along the walls and above the bath, were teal tiles, a teal shelf built into the wall holding his toiletries and various other blue or teal objects.

Stripping out of my clothes, I climbed into the shower. To impatient for the water to heat up, I hopped around slightly as I waited for the temperature to adjust. When the water was tolerable, I stepped under the sprays and picked up one of jean’s shower gels. Squeezing a blob into my hand, I could smell Lemon and Tea Tree, not something I’d choose personally but the smell of it was refreshing. _At least I won’t smell like sweat anymore_.

It was nearing the end of my shower, when the door opened and Jean lazily sauntered in. “Jean! Couldn’t you wait, I’m almost finished.” I shouted and his eyes didn’t waver from the toilet seat, as he lifted the seat up.

“Well Marco, I’m not exactly okay with the idea of a grown man pissing himself on his bed.” Jean mumbled, he pulled himself out and I turned away, covering myself consciously. “Besides, I wouldn’t peep.” Jean sighed, at the relief.

“Really, because if I recall, yesterday you threatened to stare at my dick over the urinal.” I shouted, frustrated that Jean was taking so long, to leave.

“Oh right, I did.” Jean laughed before fixing himself up and flushing the toilet. I could still hear Jean’s laughter over my startled screams as the water went cold. _I hate you Jean Kirstein_.

When I stepped out of the shower, I felt a cold creeping sensation like I was forgetting something. “The store.” I sighed. Well as much as I hate to leave it, I think it will be okay to leave the store closed for today. _Note to self, don’t ever drink on a work night_.

* * *

 

One for the Road was playing in the background as Jean parked inside the parking lot. If I thought Jean looked at home, sitting on his sofa whilst drinking whiskey, I was wrong because Jean looks so much more relaxed and comfortable humming along to the music in his Chevrolet Impala 1967. I was wrong assuming that Jean’s house was his fortress or his castle because his real pride and joy, is this car. On the way to the grocery store, Jean chattered on about how his dad promised to buy him a car for his seventeenth birthday and unlike all the other guys in his school who wanted BMWs and Audi’s, Jean fell in love with the Impala.

He had explained that the car wasn’t in a good condition when his dad brought it and he spent all of his free time restoring the car with his friend Connie who I really need to meet because this guy sounds amazing and to be honest I’m slightly jealous of the impact he has had on Jean’s life but anyway this car was a way for Jean to channel his pent up anger and frustration. So here I am, sitting inside of the one thing he cherishes in the world. _I wonder how my Juke is doing, please God don’t give me any parking tickets_.

Jean opened his door and I climbed out, following him into the store. Jean passed a trolley to me and I took it without a fight. As I pushed the trolley, I absentmindedly pulled at the black t-shirt that clung to my torso. Jean had lent it to me as there was no point in changing back into my sweaty t-shirt and as grateful as I am, this t-shirt is really tight.

“Hey fatty, next time bring your own clothes.” Noticing my discomfort Jean turned towards me, a sly smile on his face.

“Just buy your damn food.” I retorted and Jean smiled wider, before turning away. It wasn’t long before the small trolley was filled with countless bags of fusilli, frozen pizzas, skimmed milk and bread. I felt the smile slip from my own lips, as I suddenly began to worry. “Jean.”

“Hmm.” He hummed, throwing another frozen pizza into the trolley.

“Where’s your meat, fruit and vegetables?” I asked and Jean looked up at me, disgust plain on his pale face.

“Ugh, what are you my mum?” Jean groaned and I smiled.

“No but you can call me daddy.” With that I pushed the trolley, leaving a confused Jean standing by the freezer. When he finally caught up to me, I had already added a variety of fruits and vegetables into his trolley. Looking at his disgusted face, I held back a laugh. “Anything else you like?” I asked, while I searched a bag of grapes for any impurities.

“Just some melon.” Jean mumbled and I found myself smiling again. I was about to move onto the next aisle, when I spotted a petite blonde, hair cropped into a short bob, the ends dip-dyed blue. The blonde seemed hesitant and I found my feet wondering over towards them.

“Hey, do you need some help?” I asked politely and the blonde jumped. “Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” I smiled as kindly as I could muster, which only scared the blonde even more.

“Umm.” The voice was husky and I found my eyes narrowing, as the person before me tried their best to avoid my eyes.

“Armin.” Jean sounded beside me, I turned around whilst the blonde in front of me looked up. “Did you need a hand with anything? Where’s Eren?” Jean asked quickly and the blonde seemed to finally recognise the face that those intense amber eyes belonged to.

“Mr. Kirstein, Eren is… he’s.” The blonde lowered their head, panic written in their blue eyes. “He didn’t come home last night.” Their small hands gripped the basket tightly and Jean exhaled frustrated.

“Armin, you know you’re supposed to call me when Eren goes awol, if not he will only get himself into even more trouble. You don’t want Eren to get into trouble do you?” Jean crossed his arms across his chest and the blonde nodded slowly. “Oh yeah Marco, this is Armin. Armin, this is Marco. Armin here is an acquaintance, I’ve grown used to seeing lately, thanks to Eren the problem child.”

“He’s not a problem child… it’s my fault his like this. It’s all because of me.” Armin’s knuckles were white and Jean reached out for his hands, prying his small fingers from the basket handle. Once Jean had taken the basket, he leant forward and spoke softly to Armin. I watched this exchange with a newfound feeling, Jean really is a different person around others. In the store with Sasha, he always holds this authority, this sort of power over her. Yes, he would bicker playfully and call her names but he seems to always be serious around her, like he feels the need to watch her carefully, on the other hand when Jean’s around me, his coy and mysterious yet loud and boisterous but right now, Jean is so gentle, it’s disorientating and I’m not even exaggerating. Jean is being tender with someone, that’s something I never thought I’d see. I was so enamoured with watching Jean, that I hadn’t realised he had finished talking and was looking at me.

“Now Armin, say goodbye to Marco and tell Hange I will call.” Jean ordered and Armin waved at me shyly before scurrying off. Basket once again inside his grasp and a bag of strawberries on the top.

* * *

 

The car ride home was quiet, Jean barely spoke and I could tell there was something heavy on his mind and as much as I wanted to know, it wasn’t my place to ask, if he wanted to tell me, he would have already. When we arrived back at his place, I helped Jean fill his cupboards in a comfortable silence but it was when we began to cook lunch that the silence began to irk me. “Jean, do you want to talk about it?” I asked wearily. He dropped the packet of bacon to the side and turned towards me.

“Armin, isn’t a friend, as much as I want them to be. Me, Jean Kirstein, wanting a friend that’s not something you see every day, heck I hate being around people but Armin, Armin has this light about them that intrigues me. I feel like I need to be there for them, especially when Eren fucks off and leaves Armin to deal with all of this shit… it’s not good for Armin, it’s too much pressure on their mind and Eren should know that, the fucking dick… Hey Marco, could you tell there was something different about Armin?” Jean asked, his amber eyes piercing, his thin lips pursed.

Reaching a hand up, I scratched at my arm nervously. Was there something different about the blonde? He, no they seemed shy, standing there in their oversized cardigan and knee high socks but there was nothing different about them, not that I could see. Shaking my head, Jean exhaled. “Armin has Asperger’s Syndrome, it can’t be cured but it can be monitored, their adoptive mother helped them out a lot, she is a psychiatrist so she helped Armin and still does. The only one she couldn’t get through too was Eren fucking Jaeger. His explosive behaviour is what pays my wages.” Jean smiled sadly and I looked down at him.

“His the client, that Sasha is working with now.” I realised and he nodded.

“Yeah, I don’t know. I just feel like Eren’s my responsibility because I was just like that when I was younger and we may only be two years apart but I want to help him, the kid just fucking does my head in. He brings out everything I’ve grown to suppress.” Jean sighed.

“His like Connie, the flame to your dynamite.” I said.

“Exactly, I just hope the kids okay, you know. Running off to fight Armin’s battles. It’s not good for either of them but come on, let’s just eat some food.” Jean placed a piece of bacon onto the hot oil to emphasise his point and I felt my stomach grumble at the sight.

* * *

 

After a slightly burnt Bacon sandwich, which Jean wouldn’t allow me to save even when I told him the oven hob was too high. We sat side by side on his sofa, legs stretched forwards, hands on our stomach, a bowl of fruit between us. “Hey Marco.” Jean called and I turned my head towards him. His cheeks were pink and his eyes were looking down at his hands as they fiddled with the hem of his t-shirt.

“Yes, Jean.”

“I’m sorry for throwing all this shit at you… you know yesterday in the store, I broke down about a guy who broke my heart, I told you about my hot-headed behaviour and now I’m bringing my work life into this relationship.” Jean sighed and I breathed in deeply.

“Relationship?” I questioned and Jean blushed deeply.

“Well not that kind of relationship Bott… I’m talking about this friendship that we have. It’s just, Connie was my only friend and then Sasha came into our lives, it’s mainly my fault why their together. I would want to go out for a drink with Connie but then I’d want to do the same with Sasha and I thought why not go out with both of them and you know it wasn’t long before I was the third wheel.” I laid my hand on Jean’s shoulder and he smiled.

“I know exactly how you feel. In college I met Krista who I think I’ve mentioned to you before, erm we became inseparable and it wasn’t long before she met Ymir my best friend but you know what. Even when I was that friend, the single one, the odd one out, the third wheel. I was happy for them, because of me, two people are happy and that’s the greatest feeling you should have.” Jean looked at me wide eyed and I myself blushed. “Look Jean, you should be happy for them.”

“I am, I really am… I’m Connie’s best man for Christ’s sake, I’m going to hand him the ring at their wedding. I just, I just miss him and I miss her. I don’t want to share them because they’ve helped me out a lot through life, they’ve been there for me and if I lose them now, I’m afraid I’m going to spiral out of control again. Sasha supplied a balance for Connie and me but when they leave to live their lives, she won’t be there to balance my anger problems anymore.” Jean’s eyes darkened and he looked at me.

“Jean, I don’t think you just want someone to help you, I think you want a companion, a partner and honestly, I can’t help you with that but I can be your anchor until you find someone who will be there to help you with these issues. Look how far you’ve grown, you’re a lawyer with a nice house and an amazing car, there’s no way that Sasha and Connie leaving you, will make you relapse after all these years of having a good clean slate.” I smiled kindly and jeans lips quirked up into that half smile, I adore.

“Thank you Marco, I guess when I first met you. I felt this feeling like I don’t know how to explain but it was like how I felt when I first met Connie, you know that need to be around him and as a child I may not have admitted that he was a friend of mine to start with but I’m a grown man now and you Marco Butthead, are my friend and I’m happy that I have someone like you to buy me fruits and force me to eat them because God knows what I’d do without someone like you.” His face brightened at his confession and I felt the insides of my body heat up as if a ray of sunshine had just pored through my pores and filled with me with a warmth. “Hey Marco, what’d you say we open a bottle of Jack.”

“Jean, its 1pm we are not drinking at 1pm besides, its best I head off and get my car before it gets towed.” I ate the last grape in the bowl before standing up and stretching. “Any chance of you dropping me off to The Colossal?” I asked and Jean grunted.

“Ugh, of course man let’s go.” I pulled Jean up and he groaned. “You’re leaving me to wash all these dishes.” Jean complained and I laughed.

“You said it yourself you’re a grown man.” I quoted him which only led him to punch my arm weakly. “Wow Jean that hurt.” I said sarcastically and he rolled his eyes.

“Come on, before I change my mind and make you to take a taxi.” Jean replied coldly, all love and affection from his words long gone.

* * *

 

I was out of Jean’s t-shirt by the time I got through the front door, I was beginning to think the blood circulation had stopped from how much the fabric cut into my torso. _Well, this is what happens when you exchange clothes with a skinny punk_. Plugging my charger into my phone, I saw a few message notifications from Krista, Sasha, Erwin and Jean.

**From: Krista**

Babe, Erwin went to the store but said he couldn’t find you

Did you not open?

**From: Krista**

Marcooooooo, my dear are you alive.

**From: Krista**

Omg did you fuck that dude???

Ymir

 _For crying out loud Ymir, how many times have I said, I won’t sleep with the first thing I see that has a dick, things have changed_.

**From: Sasha**

The day I bring Connie to the store & u weren’t even there :'-(

**From: Erwin**

Hello Marco, I stopped by to see if you were interested in a deal.

My partner knows an associate who can promote your store.

I’ll be at Ymir’s house today and tomorrow so stop by if you have a chance.

Erwin Smith

Oh crap, I missed not only Erwin but Sasha and Connie too. I was hoping I’d get the chance to interrogate Connie about Jean and the day I had the chance, I wasn’t even around. _Thank you Jean for kidnapping me_. I should probably see Erwin later, a person who could promote my store, this is everything I’ve wanted and everything I need. If this associate can sponsor the store, I’ll be able to have more clientele. This it, this is my big break.

I laid down on my bed, there was still one more message to be read. Opening up Jean’s message, I gasped.

**From: Jean**

Thanks for looking after me today, daddy..

 _Oh Marco what have you started_. I spent the afternoon, designing a dress for Sasha, she doesn’t know it yet but when she finally comes in for a dress fitting, I’ll take her measurements and make a dress of my own, even if she doesn’t choose to wear it, just knowing that I’ll be here to anchor Jean when she goes, I need to at least give her something to thank her for helping him for so long. The more I focused on the details of the dress, time gradually crept to seven in the evening and I yawned. Packing away my pencil case, I stretched, It’s time I go and see what Erwin’s associate has to offer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I really think Jean is a needy person, who craves the attention but doesn't know how to get it. Luckily for him being destructive gets him much needed attention from Marco. Marco on the other hand is trying to be a good boy, I guess its hard when Jean is flaunting himself in front of him.
> 
> This chapter was slightly rushed, I did write this in two days but I hope it makes up for me not posting when I said I would. As it was rushed, if you see any mistakes please say, I can't spot all the errors.
> 
> *Cackles evilly* I wonder who Erwin's partner is...
> 
> See you guys next week!


	5. New faces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco takes the opportunity to meet with an friend dearest to him but it seems that the world really is small, when your friends are acquainted with an acquaintance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohkay it's a few hours late but it's finally up..
> 
> I'll just like to say I created two mood boards for both [Jean](https://www.flickr.com/photos/103592771@N02/15000647271/in/set-72157646739470942) and [Marco](https://www.flickr.com/photos/103592771@N02/14817095570/in/set-72157646739470942/), showing a few things I imagine them having in this AU. Mainly favourite colours, types of clothing and music etc. I'm also thinking of making one for Ymir, Connie and whoever else is going to have a continuous appearance throughout the upcoming chapters.
> 
> Lastly this chapter is just a cluster fuck of words to help thicken my weak ass plot, I apologise in advance.

_On the drive to Ymir’s house, Marco was given the opportunity to think about all of the recurring themes in his life. One of these themes were his store, his haven, the one thing he has worked hard for and today might be his chance to collaborate with someone who has the ability to indorse the store and give Bott's Boutique the publicity it needs. Another theme was Krista calling Marco whenever she was free, crying down the phone because of Ymir and the things he’s begun to say. Things that have left Marco irked whenever he was alone in the store, things that always played on his mind whenever he wasn't occupied but thanks to Jean, Marco hasn’t reflected on Ymir's dark thoughts. Finally there’s Jean, Marco’s most recurring theme. The guy who had entered his life dressed in a tailored suit and cocky attitude but also the guy who likes to drink his whiskey untraced and paint the woman’s sexual organs. The guy who has been going through Marco’s mind since that day they crossed paths in his store and it seems to be that every day they are crossing paths ever since the opening of Bott’s Boutique a month and a half ago._

_Marco hasn't felt this feeling in a while, the feeling of loss whenever Jean leaves the store, the feeling of loneliness whenever Jean doesn't text or call and most importantly that feeling of protection whenever Jean looks as though he’s going to break down. He’s only ever showed that side of himself to Marco on two occasions but seeing it alone has made Marco adamant to protect Jean. The guy who spends money on expensive clothes yet is unable to refill his empty food cupboards. The guy who is going to cause Marco to crash his car if he doesn't stop thinking about him._

“Holy sh- shitake… Oh my God.” I slammed my hands onto the steering wheel, as I braked the car. Breathing heavily, I leaned my head back and sighed. Crashing into the rear end of Erwin’s associate’s car wouldn't make the best of first impressions. Breathing into my hand to check my breath, I stepped out of the car and locked the door. Krista opened the front door, upon my arrival, a smile on her small face. “Hey Mako.” She cooed, as she reached up for a hug. Leaning down I embraced my best friend and ruffled her blonde hair. “Hey, don’t do that, I gotta look good for Uncle Erwie's partner.”

“Oh yeah, sorry about that. How are you kitty?” I lifted the ends of Krista's blonde hair and she raised a neat brown brow.

“I’m fine I guess, well besides Ymir of course. My agent keeps complaining that I haven’t painted anything new and if I don‘t get started I can’t bring out my new collection in time for summer but to be honest I think it’s because my minds been preoccupied with Ymir. You know he keeps saying all this weird shit about not being a real man and it’s starting to really worry me.” Krista spoke quietly and it was my turn to raise a brow at her statement. “Mako, why are you playing with my hair?” She crossed her arms and I laughed nervously.

“Oh, you just reminded me of someone I met today. They had a blonde bob with dip dyed ends and I thought of you.” Krista’s eyes lit up and I smiled, happy that the conversation has steered away from Ymir and the problem the three of us thought was gone.

“Really, should I dye the ends of my hair too?” Krista giggled excitedly, whilst leading me into the living room. I spotted Ymir straight away, sitting cross legged on the floor, his macbook in front of him and his electric guitar in his hands. “Baby, Mako’s here.” Krista announced and Ymir looked up with his usual warm smile.

“Hey Marco, long time no see, you’ve been spending too much time with that suit and tie guy.” Ymir looked back down strumming away at a string before typing something down.

“It hasn’t even been that long.” I sighed, looking around for Erwin, not seeing any sign of the larger man, I sat down beside Ymir, crossing my long legs. There was a complex looking application up on his screen however I did recognise it as the software Ymir uses to record his demos and from the looks of it, he’s working on something new. “New song?” I asked even though I knew the answer. Ymir stayed silent for a while and I held my breath.

“Yeah, Con man wants to see if I can work with this new instrumental he created.” Ymir pressed a key on his mac and a soft music began to pour out through the speakers. The soft harmony gradually became something harder and erratic and I found myself moving my head to the ever growing beat. “Awesome, right.” Ymir smiled and I nodded enthusiastically.

“It really is, Holy crab apple.. is this the new guy you found?” I asked and before Ymir could answer there was a bark of laughter and an unamused snort that announced Erwin’s arrival as he walked through the living room door with a shorter man behind him. I always considered Erwin as an attractive man, he’s around six feet two, with broad shoulders and a muscular built to accommodate his height. His hair is blonde and parted down the middle in what Krista calls ‘The old man do’ and his brown eyebrows are extremely thick but shaped. Erwin’s eyes are an ice cold blue but his loving smile warms his colder eyes. I can’t really say the same for the shorter guy stepping around to stand in front of him. The man’s eyes are a stone cold grey and his gaze was narrowed in my direction, there was a furrow beneath his small eyes, which contradicted with his youthful appearance. His jet black hair was styled in a undercut and his thin pink lips were pursed. I stood up, upon their arrival into the living room and Ymir sighed, pulling his headphones on.

“Hello Marco, this is Levi my partner. Levi this is Marco, the young man who owns Bott’s Boutique.” Erwin introduced us and I shook Levi’s hand which was extremely small. _Holy Cow, he’s small_.

“Hey Marco, I’m a journalist who works for a fashion magazine, my next article is about local wedding stores and I was going to go to Bridal to interview the manager there but Erwin says you have much more to offer.” Levi’s thin lips spread into an almost kind smile before his face wrinkled back up. “Is there a cat in here?” He asked, his voice much huskier than I anticipated. Levi looked around, in time to see Krista carrying Levi her black cat towards the sofa behind Ymir. “Why the fuck is that cat wearing a cravat?” Levi questioned and Krista froze startled.

“Oh, erm Levi doesn’t like collars and because there’s other black cats without collars in the neighbourhood, Erwin thought it was a good idea to give him a cravat.” Krista explained, looking even more panicked as both Levi and cat Levi sneezed. Levi looked down at his own cravat tucked into his pressed white shirt, before inclining his head to look at Erwin who waved his hands frantically.

“I’ll deal with you when I get home.” Levi elucidated before turning back to me, his small pointed nose red and his eyes watery. “I’m allergic to cats so that explains the face. Anyway, I’d like to ask your permission to photograph Bott’s Boutique and to interview you for the magazine. Of course, this will give you a lot more publicity as I myself didn’t even know your store existed so please bear in my mind that this is a good offer for you to think about.” Levi raised his hand again and I shook it, besides his watery eyes he smiled politely before replacing his smile with a scowl. Walking past a worried Erwin, Levi stalked to an empty sofa and crossed his small legs. I watched the way Erwin approached him cautiously before he sat down. Laughing, I found myself eyeing Levi the Cat, with the best evil eyes I could give however the cat was only focused on Levi who stared back with the same intense eyes, as Erwin meekly apologised at his side.

“Well, I see why you named him Levi.” I whispered to Krista, who dropped Levi the Cat to the ground and turned to me. “Also, are they like actual partners?” I asked although Krista didn’t need to answer, as the quiet sounds of kissing, confirmed my suspicions. I always knew Erwin was gay, it wasn’t the reason why I had a crush on him when I was seventeen but it was the reason why I came to terms with my preferences and taste in men. You could argue that my love for blondes stemmed from Erwin.

Unlike brunettes I’ve dated in the past, blondes have always left my heart beating much faster and Erwin certainly had me going into cardiac arrest every time he came around to Krista’s house. I just never assumed Erwin would go for a guy a whole foot shorter than him and especially a guy with such a miserable attitude. The two of them are opposites, Levi wearing a dress shirt, smart trousers and polished loafers whereas Erwin is wearing a blue checkered shirt, white jeans and black boots yet the more I look at the pair and their obvious differences, the more I think of how different me and Jean look, if we were together would people look at us, the way I look at Erwin and Levi.

Shaking my head, I looked around, feeling slightly out of place in the small living room, I hovered in the middle of the floor not knowing whether to head back home now that I’ve met Levi or to stay longer and try to get him on the good side of me. Ymir saved me the hard decision, he pulled my arm towards him and I almost tripped over my own feet, as the shorter man led me upstairs and into his and Krista’s bedroom. Shutting the door, he turned around briskly and pushed me up against the wall.

“Don’t you dare, tell me how to live my life.” Ymir shouted, voice slick with venom, my lilac t-shirt bunched up in his grip.

“Wh-what are you talking about?” I stammered, unsure of how to tread around him.

“I know Krista has been talking, telling you shit, that you don’t need to know.” Ymir continued to hold me against the wall and I stared down at the smaller man, eyebrows raised in concern.

“Ymir, Krista has only said that she’s worried, nothing more and nothing less.” I lied, feeling that if I admitted his girlfriend had been talking to me about the things he holds dearest to him, two of the people he loves the most would have betrayed him. Ymir’s grip loosened and he stepped back.

“I’m sorry Marco.” His voice wavered and he turned away from me. His long brown hair slightly loosened from his ponytail and he scratched at one of his shaved side’s absentmindedly. “I just, we need to talk but not with Krista around. I nee- Marco, I need you.” Ymir pleaded, anxiety written all over his freckled face.

“Okay, we can talk. I can pick you up from the garage one of the upcoming evenings and we can chill out.” I proposed and Ymir nodded in gratitude. In moments like these it’s hard to tell whether I should hug Ymir and comfort him or walk away, today I went with the former, opening my arms and embracing him. Pulling away shortly, I punched Ymir in his arm and he smiled sadly. “Besides, I think it’s time I heard some of your new music and met your new band mate.”

Heading back downstairs I could see Levi the Cat standing on the coffee table, the fur on his back raised as he hissed at Levi who bared his teeth in an almost cat like manner. Krista was attempting to grab Levi the Cat whilst Erwin hesitantly tried to grab Levi. Coughing once, to clear the air, I began to speak “I have to go and sort some stuff out at home, I’ll be by again sometime next week.” I announced this to Erwin and Krista as Levi was too caught up in his stand-off with Levi the Cat too look over. I said my goodbyes and was out of the house in no time. Climbing into my car I leaned forward against the steering wheel. I don’t have anything to sort out at home. I have no dishes to clean and no laundry to wash. I have no pets to feed and no boyfriend to cuddle up too. I have nothing to go back to, nothing but my one bedroom apartment.

* * *

 

After driving endlessly through the night, I found myself parking outside of a house, a house I had left no more than a few hours ago. Climbing out of my Juke, I walked up the porch steps and knocked at the door. There were several antagonising moments before the door opened to reveal a tired looking Jean. “Hey Jean, is it a bad time?” I asked unsure of whether to run in my car and bury my face in my arms. He blinked slowly, his mouth stretching into a yawn.

“Of course not, it’s never a bad time to be blessed by my presence.” Jean smirked, allowing me inside. Kicking of my Galaxy print vans, I walked into the living room and joined Jean on the couch. He lifted a glass filled with a brown liquid up to my nose and I jerked backwards. “More for me.” Taking a sip of his whiskey, Jean leaned backwards, his honeyed eyes staring me down. “So Marco, you couldn’t get enough of me.” Jean smiled and I rolled my eyes.

“Ha! You wish… no I just got into a little confrontation with my friend, best friend… I guess I didn’t want to go back home.” I sighed and Jean lifted a slender hand and placed it on my shoulder.

“Well, I’m not the best when it comes to comforting people but hey, I have movies and alcohol so just chill out and relax.” Jean raised his glass to emphasise his point, the glass hovering just before his lips. Exhaling, I snatched the glass from Jean’s hand and drank the remaining liquid. The whiskey burned my throat and I scrunched my face up in disgust. It may not be a Strawberry Daiquiri but it would do.

Jean stood and walked towards the rack of DVDs before crouching down, his t-shirt rising to reveal the small of his back. Standing back up, he leant over and placed a DVD into his PlayStation 4, he turned with a smile before placing the case back on the rack. Once Jean had finished setting up, he ran to turn the lights off and plopped himself back on the couch beside me. In the darkness, I could see how sharp Jean’s jawline and cheekbones were as the light from the TV cast a glow on those prominent areas whilst the shadows from the darkness created the illusions of contouring. _He is so handsome, I just, I’m so done with all of this torture_. The last thing I saw before I turned away was the ghost of a smile on his thin lips.

* * *

 

For the next month, I saw Jean almost daily. He was given back his case at the bureau and so he spent more time in his work office than the small office inside of my store because of this, there would be days that Jean would call or text me, inviting me over to his house and so I began to spend more evenings with the blonde haired idiot in the confines of his living room. As Jean spent less time in the store with me, I had Sasha to keep my company whenever she was on her lunch breaks or out and about in the town, keeping me occupied with her fast paced conversations. Our conversations would go from ‘What if there was a sixty feet wall around the city protecting us from man eating giants?’ to ‘Would you eat cake out of someone’s asshole for one million?’ however there were conversations were Sasha and I finally got the basis of her wedding sorted out.

Sasha is hoping to have a summer wedding, the colour scheme black, light grey and a sorbet yellow, incorporating both of her and Connie’s favourite colours. So far in our planning the bridesmaids are too either wear a sorbet full length halter neck dress or a sorbet one shouldered dress. As there may only be two bridesmaids, Sasha is considering making them choose which one they want each. I still haven’t met Connie and Sasha has explained he wants Jean to be his best man which means if Jean doesn’t go to a tailors, I’ll get the chance to get all close and personal with him, when getting his measurements. During our time together, it didn’t take long for Sasha to realise how much I liked Jean, sadly for me, she would bring him up into the conversation, making jokes that she’d throw the flowers my way but that’s just Sasha for you.

It has also been a while since I’ve spoken to Ymir alone since the small confrontation in his room, whenever we try to converse Krista is always around or I’m being called to the store for deliveries and so we haven’t had the time to really sit down and talk about the things that are making him feel down. I decided it’s time I visit Ymir in his work place, Ragako Carro. Growing up, he had always expressed a love for cars and I was there to support him when he decided to take mechanics seriously.

It was coming up to five in the evening, as soon as I Stepped into Ragako Carro, the strong smell of oils assaulted my nose, the fumes sharp and intoxicating and my head began to swim, the further I walked into the store. There were three cars inside of the garage one I recognised as a red Mazda, the other two I couldn’t name. The last time, I stopped by Ragako Carro, there was only four mechanics including Ymir but right now I can only see one, their overalls dirty, hair messily bobbled as they crouched down beside a tire, screwdriver in their hand. “Hey Ymir.” I shouted and he looked up, smudges of oil on his freckled face.

“Marco.” He called with a smile, standing up with his arms outstretched. “What a surprise to see you.” Ymir walked towards me and I instinctively reached out for his face, wiping the oil away with my thumb. “Marco, what have I said about mumming me?” Ymir crossed his arms and I giggled.

“It’s fun being your mum, anyway where are all the other mechanics?” I asked, looking around at the empty garage.

“They’ve been fired, at lot of them were slackers, you know sitting on their arses not bothering with the orders. Customers began to come in complaining and José was just like adios bitches.” Ymir lifted his middle finger up to imitate his boss and I covered my mouth to stifle a laugh. José took Ymir under his wing and taught Ymir everything he knew about cars, he promised Ymir that once he passes his course he’d give him a job in the garage and José lived up to the promise employing Ymir from the moment he told him he passed.

“Well José, never messes around.” I paused and Ymir looked up at me. We both knew where this conversation was heading and in all honesty I wasn’t sure if I was ready for this but the more we push it away, the more unhappy Ymir will be. “Ymir, what’s going on?” I asked although, I already knew part of the answer.

“I’m ready for top surgery.” Ymir said quietly, all the happiness from his voice earlier was replaced with a loathsome sadness which only made my chest tighten more as I watched him crumble before me. Ymir’s eyes began to water and his voice broke as he fought back the tears. “Krista… Krista.” Ymir struggled to finish the sentence and I reached out for him, ignoring the oil from his overalls and embracing him regardless of how grimy my clothes will be once I let him go. Rubbing my chin on the top of his head, I hummed gently into his hair.

“Krista doesn’t approve, I know Ymir, I know.” I continued to embrace him all up until he finally stopped crying. “Ymir sometimes you do things for the person you love but sometimes it’s okay to be selfish because at the end of the day, this is your life too. You shouldn’t have to reconsider the things that will make you feel better just because of Krista. If she doesn’t want you to continue with the next stage of your life, as much as it hurts me to say… y-you need…” Leaning away from Ymir I grabbed his shoulders and urged him to look into my eyes because we both knew what I thought and I didn’t have to voice it.

“She’s the reason, I’ve put it off for so long and I just can’t do it anymore. I’ve had enough of having to wear vests on the beach, having to bind myself up whenever I’m going on a date, I’ve had enough of having to disguise and hide what I have, what I was given. I want to change but she keeps stopping me and I love her so much that if it comes to it again I won’t go with it and I’ll just live in denial for the rest of my life.” Ymir sniffled and he wiped at his nose with the back of his hand.

“No you don’t, I will not let you put this off. I won’t, I can’t. Ymir I can’t see you like this anymore. It’s clear that you’re not happy, that this is depressing you. Now that you’re working extra hours, you have no time to enjoy yourself and when you get the chance to relax, all you’ll think about is this. Ymir, I will be here for you, even when Krista tries to persuade you and change your mind, I’ll be here, I will always be here.” My eyes began to sting as I felt the tingle of tears leave my watery eyes. Ymir stood taken aback by my words, his eyes searching my own with questions.

“But you have Jean.” Ymir said softly, a stray tear on his cheek.

“Jean.” I laughed. “Jean is a friend that I’ve known for less than two months, Ymir you’re my brother, I’ve known you all my life. I would never drop you for some scumbag who can barely remember when my birthday is.” I laughed louder, even though the tears were still streaming down my cheeks. I almost felt hysterical, unable to tell whether I was happy or sad much like Mother Nature on a rainy but sunny day. The outcome of Mother Nature’s hysterics is a beautiful rainbow, I couldn’t say the same for myself, a big man crying in the middle of a Mechanics and so I rubbed at my face with the sleeve of my jumper.

“Would you come with me for a consultation?” Ymir asked, a small smile on his tear stained face.

“Of course my Dancer.” I punched Ymir’s arm and he punched me back.

“What did I say about calling me that?” Ymir crossed his arms and I laughed.

“Well I wasn’t the one that told you to join that stupid gang.” I placed a hand on my waist and cocked my hip to the side.

“What gang?” I yelped at the unfamiliar voice and turned around to peer into a pair of hazel eyes.

“Oh hey Con Man.” Ymir called, stepping from behind me and patting the shorter guy roughly on the back. “Marco this is Connie, my colleague. Connie this is Marco, my best friend and brother.” Ymir introduced the pair of us and I raised my fist to match Connie’s own. Lowering my hand, I observed him. Connie’s hair was buzzed short, the tiniest of curls sticking up from his closely clipped head, his hazel eyes were big and bright giving him a youthful look which juxtaposed with the slight stubble along his jawline. As I looked at the shorter man, he tipped his head to the side with a quizzical look on his young face before tapping Ymir on the shoulder.

“Es que Marco Bott?” Connie spoke fluently and I immediately recognised the language as Spanish, luckily for him Ymir hasn’t taught me any of his first language.

“Sí, es él. ¿Cómo es que lo conoce?” Ymir replied and I watched the pair attentively as they spoke.

“Jean habla de él.”Connie replied and Ymir laughed. Turning back to me, Connie crossed his arms across his chest with a smile. “So you’re the famous Marco Bott. I leave the house to get rid of my fiancé who constantly talks about you, to only see my best friend who talks about you 10x more.” Connie sighed dramatically, the motion reminding me of Jean whenever I scold him or win him in an argument. Thinking of Jean I wonder what his best fri- Holy shitake.

“You’re Connie?” I pointed at Connie and he nodded with a confused expression on his face.  “Oh my God, you’re Connie. How the hell did you guys even meet?” I asked, baffled that my best friend was friends with Jean’s best friend.

“Well Marco to be honest it has been years since you’ve visited so you wouldn’t have seen Connie around. José employed him a few years ago, strangely we never had the same shift so we didn’t get to see each other much but now I see this guy 9 to 5, every day.” Ymir explained and Connie nodded his small head.

“We’re all up in each other’s space so much, we’re practically drift compatible.” Connie shouted with an outstretch of his arms. “Hey Marco, I’m helping Ymir write some music, you should hear him, he’s incredible.” Connie prodded his finger at Ymir’s chest and Ymir batted his hand away with a huff.

“No way, Connie here is the real genius, remember that instrumental I played for you. It was all him.” Ymir praised Connie and I found myself staring agape at the energetic man.

“Seriously, that was all you.” I shouted and he nodded. “Holy wow, I don’t even know what to say. My musical expertise stop at a triangle so I can’t even think of how many years you put into practising to be so good.” I applauded Connie and his light skin blushed slightly.

“Hey Ymir we should play Marco something.” Connie rubbed at his hands and headed towards the small office.

“I haven’t got my guitar.” Ymir mumbled and Connie laughed.

“Dude, you carry that thing with you wherever you go. In fact I know it’s in the office now.” Connie shouted back, his voice distant. There was the sound of rummaging before Connie returned shortly, amp in one hand, a small instrument in his other hand and Ymir’s electric guitar slung across his back. Approaching us with a triumphant look on his face, Connie lowered the amp. “I only have my sampler because my sympathiser is fucking huge and I can't carry that everywhere. Hey Amigo, I know you’re worried about Boss but I’m sure he won’t mind, plus this will only be one song.” Handing the guitar to a reluctant looking Ymir. Connie placed his sampler on the nearest car and urged for me to find somewhere to sit, I instead opted for standing. Once Ymir had finished setting up his guitar, he strummed once and looked up, a mischievous smile on his face. As much as Ymir loves to mess around, when it comes to his work, he takes everything seriously which is why I’m happy he’s letting his hair down and taking a well-deserved break.

* * *

 

Before we could start a car pulled up outside of the mechanics, Connie paled as Ymir glared at him. I was about to diffuse the pair who began to bicker when a figure entered the room and the three of us froze. Jean strolled in, a red checkered shirt tied around his narrow hips, black jeans torn and his usually slicked hair, fringed. He stopped in the center of the room and looked at us slowly. “What happened, were you guys going to play? Let me hear.” Jogging up to stand beside me, I felt a tug on my arm and I looked over at Jean. “I’ll talk to you after.” He said the words quietly in my ears, his breath still lingering long after he had turned. Turning away from Jean I focused my attention on the pair.

Connie turned a knob and began to tap onto the keyboard of his sampler. The room was filled with music, the sampler letting of an electronic ambience that filled my insides with light, as if I was inside of a rave and the lights were being emitted from my body. I found myself rocking subconsciously and at my side Jean rocked, his arm hitting mine as he joined in. Bliss was the only way to describe how I was feeling in this moment, Connie’s music filling me with an energy, I haven’t felt in a while. It was when Ymir strummed the first note that I almost collapsed to my knees. The note was loud and sharp and it left my body feeling empty once it had ended.

Connie tapped at another button on the sampler and the music changed tempo, slowing down to accommodate the chaotic notes Ymir strummed. Two hands snaked their way around my waist and I peered behind at Jean whose forehead was pressed into my shoulder blades. Ignoring the intrusion and the sudden quickening of my heart, I continued to rock side to side and Jean’s rhythm matched my own as we both were swallowed up by the music.

Ymir’s hair hung over his face as he leant over his guitar, his face concealed from my prying eyes whilst Connie’s head bopped up and down as he constantly changed the tempo from electronic to rock, the change was disorientating and I could feel the blood rushing to my head. When the music had ended, I was left panting. I have never felt that feeling before in my entire life, the music touched me in a way I haven’t been touched before. It was like, the build up to a long awaited orgasm; stimulating, relaxing and fills you with warmth.

Ymir looked up, strands of hair obscuring his eyes and Connie swiped some sweat from his brow. I looked behind at Jean and it appeared he too was recovering from that performance. The warmth from his arms gone as he braced himself against the trunk of the car behind us. I was the first to talk. “That was incredible.” I praised stepping forward to high five Connie. “I can’t even describe how amazing you guys are, your music is like he-”

“Sex. I felt like I was coming down from a high.” Jean interjected, his cheeks flushed slightly and I found myself tugging at the front of my trousers whilst no one was watching. If one song was enough to give me a half chub, what the hell would an album do to me?

“It’s still raw but we’re working on it.” Ymir pulled his loose hair back into a pony.

“Guys, it was truly incredible… I don’t even think you need to change it, God I’ve never felt my heart race like that in a while.” I placed a hand to my chest to emphasize my point.

“Well that’s probably because you haven’t had a good fuck.” Jean teased and I felt my cheeks heat up.

“And when was the last time you had a good fuck, Mr. Girls Don’t Get Me.” Connie shouted and Ymir slapped his arm.

“Hey, why are you bringing my sex life into this?” Jean shouted, face red with what I was hoping was embarrassment and not anger.

“I brought it up because you brought up Marco’s... the guy’s organising my wedding, I have to stay on the good side of him, right Marco.” Connie nudged me and I shrugged “Mr. I Haven’t Been Laid in Five Years, stop harassing Marco he’s not a chick anyway.” Connie crossed his arms and Jean huffed out a breath.

“It hasn’t even been that long, don’t listen to him Marco.” Jean said quietly, his amber eyes wide and his mouth pouty.

“Guys, how active your sex life is really doesn't bother me, seriously this ‘Bro Code’ is a load of crap.” I stated whilst pointing at each guy individually. “I’ve had enough of hearing about the pyramid of dick sizes and how long another guy hasn't cummed from the hands of someone else. Jesus Christ, I think it’s time I leave so you guys can debate your manliness without me.” Raising my hands up, I stepped away from the car and headed for the exit, turning back once to shout my goodbyes.

I was about to climb into my car when I heard approaching footsteps behind me, turning around I saw Jean jogging towards me. “Hey.” He shouted, once he came to a stop. “Hey I said I wanted to talk to you, didn't I.” I leaned against my car door and waited for Jean to continue. “So I’ve been wondering if you’d like to go and watch a movie sometime, like actually out and not inside of my living room.”

“Is this a date Jean.” I teased and Jean’s face turned red as his mouth hung open.

“What the fuck Marco, I just wanted to watch a movie.” Jean shouted and I mussed his hair playfully.

 “I'm only kidding, of course I’ll come with you. What did you have in mind?”

“Well, The Winter soldier came out a few weeks ago and I’ve been wanting to see that for a while now.”  

“Oh awesome, I'm free in the evenings so just give me a call.” I opened my door and climbed in, before winding the windows down. Jean leant forward and smiled.

“I’ll call you sometime.” He said, his smile lazy and his eyes squinted. “Goodbye Marco.”

“Ciao Jean.” I watched him saunter back inside, his hands stuffed into his pockets and his strides confident. Back in Ragako Carro, when Connie and Ymir had performed, Jean leant against me, his forehead against my back and his arms around my waist. The notion was strange, especially coming from Jean, it was too intimate, too close and I feel like the more time I spend with Jean, the more he forgets about my personal space but in all honesty it doesn't bother me at all because I know one day, I'm going to be inside of his personal space. Pulling away from the garage, I drove home with thoughts of Jean on my mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohkay so Jean and Marco are actually getting a little bit of movement and its about time too, I'm honestly not one to wait around and take things slow but I promised myself, that I'll show the development of not only Jean but Marco's personality and the growth of their relationship. 
> 
> Jean's a waist grabber when he dances and you can't tell me he's not! Also y'all must know that feel, when a song gets you so worked up, that your just sitting like fuck, that was hot.
> 
> The name Ragako Carro, was derived from the town Ragako where Connie is from (In the actual series) and Carro, the Portuguese translation of car. 
> 
> Translation notes, Connie says "Is that Marco Bott?", Ymir replies with "Yes he is, how do you know?" This was the hardest one to translate as ¿Cómo es que lo conoce also means 'How is it known' but from what I've researched on about five different websites the phrase can be used for both. The same goes for when Connie says "Jean talks about him." Habla de él also means talks about it. Any Spanish readers or anyone who is fluent with the language, please correct me if I'm wrong.
> 
> P.S. I wasn't originally going to have Levi as a character but then having Erwin without Levi is like having a cupcake without icing (that sounded way better in my head) but anyway I thought hey, why not throw his short ass in. 
> 
> P.S. I picture Erwin as the kind of uncle who would be like hey, name your cat after my partner because he'll never know and feel the full wrath of that choice years later.


	6. Prinzessin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean has needs and having a friend like Marco is one of them but Jean has other needs and Marco soon learns, that Jean is more confused about his feelings then he could ever imagine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's time for an update but before I post this chapter I'd like to apologise for posting so late. 
> 
> My laptop was sent to the dudes in Know How because my disk drive had broken and because I'm back at uni in less than two days, I wanted to get my laptop fixed. I wish I had written something in time to give you guys a warning but hey, I'm back now (not that anybody missed me *sobs grossly*) 
> 
> I'm not even sure what this fic is even about any more, like hey I know what my end goal is going to be but damn, it's filling in the space in between that stresses me out.

_April is slowly drawing to an end, the daffodils in the town park have finished blooming. A bright yellow patch in the green grass almost like fireflies in a dark summer sky. Marco’s birthday is nearing and he was constantly reminded of it by his two best friends Ymir and Krista. The pair have been going on about Marco’s birthday for quite some time, to them it was something huge but to Marco it was just another inconvenience in his life. He hasn’t contacted his twin sister Leonora in a while and the guilt has begun to wear at him. He knows he’s being petty after all these years but deep down he knows he’d never forgive Leonora for sleeping with his first love. She could argue that two could play at the game and that it takes two to tango but in Marco’s eyes, family do not betray each other because unlike partners, family are not replaceable._

_Yet even as Marco scolded himself for ignoring his sister’s emails and texts, he couldn’t bring himself to accept her apology. Maybe he needed this birthday party to take his mind of his sister, maybe he should thank Ymir and Krista for secretly plotting behind his back but Marco being the indecisive Gemini he is, Marco can only ignore those that love him and focus only on the one man, who will never accept his affection and hope that maybe one day Jean will open his eyes and see that there is something good in front of him. However even as Marco hopes Jean would somehow miraculously fall in love with him, like the innocent princess swayed by a love spell, Marco can only hope that Jean will not be swayed by his sisters love spell, like many men before him._

Jean was the first one to bring up the movie. It was one lazy afternoon in the store, customers had slowed down considerably and I lazed around at the counter, playing with the dark hairs on my arms. My eyes closed as sleep called out to me, pulling me into its dark depths and it wasn’t long before sleep had claimed me. If it hadn’t had been for my phone ringing, I wouldn’t have noticed the man staring at me with steel eyes and a quirked brow. Levi gestured for me to answer the phone and I did as I was told. Jean’s high pitched wails scared any remaining sleep away as he moaned and complained about how much of his life is consumed by work and how he needs a certain freckled someone to drag him away from it all.

The phone call ended with Jean stating that if we didn’t go and watch The Winter Soldier within twenty four hours he’d go on a violent rampage but it was Wednesday and we both have to work throughout the remainder of the week and so it came down to one thing, movie night on a Friday night. Back in my teen days, going out on a movie date, always led to adventurous things in the dark, the exhilaration of being caught by anybody and everybody fuelling my lustful ways but this wasn’t a date, it was merely two twenty something friends going to watch a movie, one who is strikingly handsome and the other, completely enamoured by him.

After stuffing my phone into my jeans pocket, Levi walked over slowly, the ends of his black hair slightly curled, his undercut clean shaven. The soft pitter patter of his black Versace loathers, filled the unnerving silence as the journalist finally came to a halt at a clothing rack not too far from the counter. “You have a very nice store, Mr. Bott.” Levi announced and although it was meant as a compliment, there was an edge to his voice that made even the nicest of things sound sarcastic. “Oh don’t worry, I haven’t come to interview you now. You can say I just wanted to have a little browse of the store. As a journalist it’s not always a good idea to visit the place of an interview before hand because you would have already seen what that location entails but I’m not like other journalists and Mr. Bott, it’s not every day that the person I interview is a friend of my partner.” Levi’s gaze flickered to my own and I felt myself mentally shrink back from the man. His thin lips turned up into a smile and he walked over to the counter. “I like you Mr. Bott and I don’t like many people but there’s something about you that is refreshing. A young man who is ambitious, is not something you come across these days and I would really love to make your story known… so you could say my visit here was so that I could see the man that my Erwin praises so highly.” Levi continued to smile and I breathed out an uneven breath. He had stopped talking long enough for me to ease a few words in.

“I didn’t know Erwin spoke of me so highly.” I muttered, embarrassed that my first major crush actually thinks of me.

“Ha, child the man adores you. Erwin says that you remind him of himself, maybe that’s why I am so intrigued by you.” The shorter man almost purred and I blushed nervously. _Ohkay, this is getting weird_.

“How long have you known Erwin?” I asked, hoping the awkwardness that had suddenly arisen would disappear. Levi climbed onto the edge of the counter crossing his short legs. I chanced a glance at the door, in hopes that a customer wouldn’t wonder in to see a man perched on my counter.

“Long before I met his darling niece. You wouldn’t believe it but Erwin and I went to the same university, he was five years older than me and he had already graduated from a Fashion with Communications course but he had returned to get his degree in Fashion Design. When I first saw him, I detested the man, he was always the object of women’s attention and I’ve always hated a man who takes pleasure in a women’s naivety and innocence. I also hated him because I assumed he was a jock especially with that big build of his but I remembered our university only dealt with creative subjects like Art, Media and English.” Levi looked away, his metallic eyes shiny as he remembered his university days.

“So what made you like him?” I asked, urging him on with more questions and the raven haired man levelled his gaze with my own.

“I fell in love.” Levi smiled and I felt my own lips lift up, with understanding. “A few of the girls on my journalist course, spoke of Erwin as this amazing guy with beautiful creations, fascinated I asked what course he was on and they said Fashion & Design, I was shocked, yes but most importantly I was captivated. Captivated by this guy whose outward appearance juxtaposed with his appearance. Erwin was the type of guy to go to a pub and have a few pints yet he had the eloquence and elegance of a top designer. It was very disorientating and it intrigued me more…” As I watched Levi talk about the man he loved, I found myself beginning to warm up to the cold journalist. Behind that hard metallic shell, was a soft and gooey centre. It was almost adorable watching him gush over Erwin. “…We began dating when we both went into our second year and that’s when I met the little Goddess, she was only eight back then and she didn’t know I was dating her uncle, however that was only because I made him tell her we were friends.” An evil smirk crawled upon Levi’s pale face.

“And how did you do that?” I asked once more, hoping to get another story out of this usually cold man.

“I’ll say only one thing, I wasn’t always this cool headed man.” Levi announced much to my laughter. “Aye, I’m being serious. Back in my teen days, I was a cage fighter and little do you know, I was one of the youngest to go against big old grown men and I always ended on top.” Levi smiled smugly and I narrowed my eyes.

“Yeah right Levi, we all know you’re a bottom.” I teased, feeling a sense of accomplishment when the man in front of me seethed.

“Well, what happens in the bedroom is a different matter.” He huffed and I laughed. Something about teasing Levi reminded me of Jean and I sighed at the thought of the blonde.

“Relationship problems.” Levi said, hopping down from his little perch on the counter.

“Ha.” I barked out a laugh. “If only it was a relationship.” I said sarcastically only to receive an almost sympathetic look from the not so sympathetic Levi.

“If he doesn’t please you, don’t let him tease you.” Levi said, his voice low and serious. I opened my mouth to correct him on the fact that Jean and I are not together but he silenced me with a wave of a hand before any words could pour out. “Marco, if the bastard isn’t ready for the chase, don’t let him get in line. On another note, I’ll be back in a week or two to interview you.” Levi opened up his black satchel which I noticed was also Versace and after digging around pronounced a small metal case, opening the case Levi took out a white business card, his small gloved hand brushing my own as I accepted the card. “I’m not sure if I gave you this card on our last face to face, it seems that darn cat has it in for me.” Levi absently rubbed at his nose and I bit back a laugh. Oh yes, Levi vs. Levi the cat was a battle to be watched.

“Sure, Levi is hard to win over.” I said conversationally but the glare Levi cast me, silenced any other remarks I had.

“That beast shouldn’t share the same name as me.” Levi complained, running a gloved hand through his short hair. “Do you know what Erwin said, when we got home?” Levi looked at me for an answer and I shook my head. “He said when he took Krista to get the cat, the first person he thought of when he saw it in the cage was me, I feel ever so confused as to why that retched thing reminds anyone of me….” As Levi droned on, I could only see a small black cat in front of me. Black fur raised, claws extended, sharp fanged canines visible through its open mouth. _Levi can you seriously not see the resemblance._ I wondered as the older man grew more distressed as he pondered why his boyfriend would name and dress a cat like him. “…The cravat, was a step to far.” Levi huffed out, crossing his small arms.

“Okay, well I guess Erwin made a huge mistake.” I supplied, hoping Levi would fall for the bait and calm down.

“The bastard doesn’t know what’s coming for him when I get home. Anyway If I don’t contact you within a week, another story may have arisen and I’ll be in the office drowning in work so be sure to give me a call or even text Erwin, I’m sure he’d love to hear from you.” Levi smiled once more and I waved at him. “And I’ll forget that you was asleep when I came in.”

“See you Levi.” I shouted as the man backed away towards the store door, only giving an annoyed toss of the hands before exiting. I sighed in relief when the door shut and I pulled my phone out to check the time. It was coming up to four o’clock and it was time for me to close the store. Standing up sluggishly, suddenly tired again, I shifted slowly towards my office to get my things.

After I finished locking up the store, I put in my earphones and started the walk to the car park. The afternoon breeze was chilled and the soft wind rustled my short hair. This morning I had straightened the black waves in a bid to control them but there’s no doubt that after today’s short nap, the ends have curled again. My family’s heritage is strong in my blood and I’m proud to carry this tanned skin, button nose and even these unruly waves but God, can I please go a day with straight hair, please.

I was almost at the car park when I heard a cry. I always play my music low enough to hear my surroundings yet still high enough to enjoy the music so I looked around cautiously wondering if the sound was even real. As I continued walking another cry alerted me that this was definitely not a figment of my imagination. Pulling my earphones out, I looked across the car park once more searching for the source of the noise.

It wasn’t long before I spotted a body laying crumpled on the ground a few feet away, their pale legs a beacon in the alley. I could see my car, it was so close, I could walk there right this second but my legs were pulling me towards the body. My footsteps loud in the eerie silence and as I approached the form, they moved suddenly, curling in on themselves. Crouching down cautiously, I reached a hand out to touch the body’s shoulder, when my hand faltered. This person lying before me had a short blonde bob with blue ends. I’ve only seen one person with this hairstyle, an acquaintance of Jean’s. Armand, Armond, Armon…. Armin.

“Armin.” I whispered, trying not to scare the body and they looked up at me, blue eyes flashing with panic before a look of recognition crossed their face. “Armin are you alright?” I asked worried for the other. They only nodded slowly, though I could see the swell of their pale cheeks and the slow blackening of one eye. “Come here, stand up.” I reached for Armin and they instinctively shuffled away, scared. This wasn’t the time. What if their attackers came back? I couldn’t fight several people whilst trying to protect Armin. I bit back my anger and bravely pulled Armin towards my chest, feeling the soft blows of their fists against my chest as they fought me. After a while the blonde suddenly relaxed, allowing me to hold them. “It’s okay.” I whispered against the crown of their head. “Let me take you home.” Armin chanced a glance up, wary and frightened but after a barely audible sigh, Armin nodded.

I stood up and the blonde followed, their dark blue shorts ripped and the sleeves of their white frilly t-shirt torn. Watching Armin, I felt a sudden swell of anger as I imagined this small petite figure being attacked by other much larger figures. I could see why Jean was so worried about them. Thinking of Jean didn’t he say that Armin had a friend who protected them? The Problem Child. “Hey Armin, where’s your friend?” I asked although I was unsure I’d get an answer.

“Eren’s late, he was supposed to pick me up an hour ago. I tried calling him but he wouldn’t answer.” Armin looked up at me with a small scowl on their beautiful face.

“Maybe he’s at the station, talking to Jean. Jean is working on your friend’s case, right? So maybe there’s a chance Jean was called down to the station to discuss Eren’s case.” I scratched at my chin in wonder and Armin nodded.

“Yeah, he could be there but he should have called me, especially since Mikasa isn’t here to pick me up.” Armin sighed quietly. My eyes bugged out of my head, when I heard that familiar name.

“Ackerman, Mikasa Ackerman.” I shouted and Armin only nodded. “No way, you’re going to have to tell me how you know her, in the car.” Armin’s eyes narrowed and it was my turn to sigh. “Unless you want to wait another hour for your friend to pick you up but to be honest Armin, he could already be home.” Armin opened their mouth to retaliate but shut it shortly, sensing truth in my words. “Come on, my cars not far.” I held out a hand, wondering if that would make Armin feel calmer and they accepted it shyly. Limping slightly, I looked down at Armin wondering if I should pick them up but before I came to a decision, we were already beside my car.

* * *

 

 

The car ride was quiet, Armin only moving their head to the music that poured through the speakers and only speaking to point out directions. All questions about Mikasa were silenced and any questions of what had happened to Armin were also silenced. They were truly a hard person to talk to but I was happy that I had gotten a few words out of them earlier, besides the silence was quite comforting. I wonder if it’s always like this with Jean.

When we arrived outside of a small apartment complex, Armin stared through the window at a car down the road, screwing their face up in confusion. “He’s here.” Armin said quietly.

“Who’s here?” I asked and Armin pointed towards a black car.

“The both of them.” Armin stated blandly and I followed their line of sight to a car, the Impala. “Guess, I might as well invite you inside.” Armin smiled but their face was soon replaced with a look of pain. Opening up the door of my Juke, I rushed around to the passenger side and opened the door, Armin limped out and I closed the door before lifting the blonde up and into my arms. There was a surprised scream and I laughed nervously. Maybe lifting up a stranger princess style is stepping boundaries but I couldn’t watch them hobble all the way up the stairs and God knows how many flights of stairs inside.

“Armin, you can barely walk, at least let me help you to the door.” There were no protests and I advanced up the stairs to the apartment complex. Armin pointed to a button and I pressed it. A low gravelly voice sounded through the intercom and Armin replied, earning a beep and the door to open. “How many floors?” I asked and Armin lifted up a small hand to show three fingers with a smile on their face. I shifted Armin onto my back and carried them up the stairs. By the third floor, I was tired and Armin’s legs dangled playfully at my sides as if this was a game. Pointing to the furthest door on the corridor, I let out a screech before carrying Armin to the door.

After several knocks, the door opened to reveal a young man with brown hair and a scowl on his face. He regarded me cautiously, his eyes flickering between Armin’s face and my own. “He’s a friend of Jean’s.” Armin said quietly and the guy, Eren I presume, moved aside to let us in. Lowering Armin to the ground, I hovered by the door wondering if it was manners to take of my boots, boots which were surprisingly black, boots that would be worn by Jean, probably. I chanced a glance around to see that Armin and the brunette were still wearing their own footwear so I followed them down the small corridor.

Upon entering the living room, the first thing I saw was a giant framed photograph with the faces of three smiling children. One blonde, I recognised as Armin, the other a brown haired boy who was obviously Eren and the last a Japanese girl with a head of black hair, Mikasa. The second thing I noticed was the lean figure standing on the balcony, at the far end of the living room. Their back was hunched over the railing and their voice deep and husky filled the other what silence. Jean.

Eren walked past me with Armin sitting comfortable in his arms, their own slim arms wrapped around his neck. “Hey!” Eren called with a smile. “Thanks for saving Armin, as you can see… things got a little messy and Jean was the first person I called but it seems things got a little more messy with Armin so I’m really grateful that you were there.” I looked down at Armin, who looked content in the arms of the man above him and I looked back up at Eren, with a smile of my own.

“Isn’t that what guys like us are here for.” I murmured.

“Got your own princess to look after.” Eren said, his eyes on Armin. The blonde’s cheek shone red and they buried their face into Eren’s neck. I was suddenly aware of how intimate that notion was and I swallowed hard.

“I wish.” I muttered nervously, my hands scratching at my thigh as all confidence left my body.

“Marco hasn’t got a princess, the guy’s gay as hell.” Jean announced loudly as he excited the balcony and entered the living room, to a glare from not only Eren but myself. “Okay, it seems as the only heterosexual here, I should probably back the fuck away.” Jean drawled, a sly smirk on his face.

“You bet your white ass you should.” Eren shouted and I winced.

“White ass, does my ass look white to you?” Jean shouted, his accent stronger the more agitated he grew.

“I don’t know, maybe you should take your trousers down so I can see.” Eren shouted back an accent of his own making the words sound rougher. Jean’s hands were already at his belt, fingers working deftly as he undid it and I sighed loudly before walking towards him and grabbing his wrists.

“Jean, seriously. You get worked up so quickly, the fact you haven’t been arrested for your impulsive behaviour astounds me.” The blonde only looked up at me, my words doing nothing to stop his actions and so I pressed more firmly onto his wrists, stopping any further attempts to wriggle away and prove to Eren how not white his ass is. Lowering my head to Jean’s ear I whispered. “Besides Jean, you and I both know your ass is as white as the moon on a dark night. Do you really need to have yourself proved wrong, just to satisfy your pride?” I leaned back to only see the amber of Jean’s eyes, they were intense.

“Fine.” Jean murmured quietly. “Can you let go now.” He complained and I pulled my hands away hastily forgetting that I was holding them tightly for all that time.

“You too finished having your lover’s spat?” Eren shouted. I turned to see him sitting on the sofa watching us, Armin was gone.

“How did the two of you bump into each other?” I asked, changing the topic before Jean could strike. Eren stretched lazily, his t-shirt rising to reveal a tanned midriff.

“I was on my way to pick up Armin when my car broke down and the first person I thought of calling was Jean. He offered to jump start the battery but the thing is completely dead, trust me. I’m a mechanic, well a trainee.” Eren explained, his eyes raking me up and down as I stood beside Jean, whose face by the looks of it, is still offended by Eren’s earlier remark.

“Really, where do you train?” I grabbed Jean by the arm and pulled him to the sofa opposite Eren were we sat down.

“Funny enough, Jean called up a mechanic from Ragako Carro, the place I’m actually training.” Eren mouthed around a yawn.

“No way.” I shouted and Jean rolled his eyes beside me.

“Who would have thought, this little brat is working with both of our best friends. The world is small.” Jean uttered.

“Hey, Mr. Lawyer and his freckly boyfriend. Do you guys want to stay for dinner? On Wednesday’s Armin and I order takeout.” Eren asked, standing up. “We can vote on what to buy, I have a ton of menus in the kitchen.” I looked at Jean and he only shrugged.

“Oh no, I couldn’t do that, I’m merely an acquaintance and I’m sure my stay is drawing to an end.” I asserted hoping that Jean would forgive me, for skipping out on the food. Not that he has to leave when I do.

“Oh quit the formalities, a friend of Jean’s is a friend of mine.” Eren declared, moving to walk towards a door.

“Das ist keine Freundschaft.” Jean spoke loudly, the accent harsh on his tongue, his thin lips curved into a snarl.

“Oh, welche Freunde wir sind.” Eren replied, teal eyes sparkling.

“Erm, hello has everyone forgotten Marco. I would very much like to leave now.” I announced with a flourish of my arms. Both pairs of eyes turned towards me. “Besides, my wallet is in the car I can’t pay for anything.”

“You should have brought it out with you then, you idiot.” Jean said, a smile on his face.

“No worries, I’ll pay for you. It’s all I can do, to thank you for being there when I wasn’t.” I smiled at Eren’s offer whilst Jean glared.

“No Marco, I will pay. Don’t worry, you can order as much as you want.” There was a challenge to Jean’s voice and I’m sure there was a light in Eren’s eyes when he looked at me, a knowing smile on his face.

“Magst Du ihn?” Eren asked Jean and I sunk back into the seats with a sigh. Whatever Eren had said, has set Jean off again. His practically on the edge of the seat, his hands balled into fists on his knees.

“Nein - er ist mein Freund. Nicht mehr und nicht weniger.” Jean’s cheeks, were a shade of pink and his eyes were narrowed.

“Well that’s what I thought about Armin.” Eren said finally in English. “I’m going to get the menus, don’t turn the TV over.” Eren ordered before disappearing into the other room. The TV was on, I hadn’t even realised.

“So what language was that?” I asked, the curiosity getting the better of me.

“German. The little bastard in there is German.” Jean smiled.

“You can speak German too, did your dad teach you?” I was curious to know which of the two languages Jean used whilst growing up. Did his mum know German and his dad know French? Did they settle on speaking English as a mutual language? All these questions filtered through my head as I wondered more about the man beside me.

“Actually my mother taught me the basic words and phrases as my father was always working but you know when he had spare time, he’d teach me words my mother would shout at him for. French was the language that dominated the household however, I think it’s due to the fact I was born in France and it was the language I adopted quicker.” Jean’s hands were unbuttoning the grey blazer jacket and he rose to take it off, folding it over the back of the sofa, he sat back down. Eren walked back in with several menus.

“Armin.” He called down the corridor and the sound of movement followed before a door opened. “Sweetie, would you come in and have a look at the menus with us.” Eren asked sweetly and I couldn’t believe this guy in front of me, was the so called impulsive problem child who has Jean running around, trying to clear up his mess. Armin’s footsteps sounded down the hallway and they appeared in a pair of blue leggings and a white t-shirt with a blue star in the centre, there were a pair of white framed glasses sitting atop their nose and a book in their right hand. Armin plopped themselves onto the sofa, the book across their lap. “So what should we have?” Eren asked handing out the menus between us. I ended up with a Chinese menu and I flicked through it searching for anything of my taste.

“Who wants pizza?” Jean asked and I swatted his arm with my hand. “Ow, what was that for?” Jean complained, rubbing his arm with a sour look on his face.

“You eat pizza almost every day, unless I cook for you.” I stated and Jean’s hands pushed at me feebly.

“Cooking for your princess aye.” Eren winked and Jean raised his middle finger up.

“Chinese sounds good.” Armin said quietly, the menus in their hands opened. I nodded in agreement and Jean bared his teeth at me.

“Well I’m going to have what Armin’s having.” Eren smiled, a hand caressing the knee of the blonde beside him. Jean growled in defeat as the vote was three to one. “Well come on, lets decide on which Chinese to go.” In the end, the four of us ordered from what Eren described as a vintage Chinese restaurant, he claims the restaurant has this vintage feel. Jean had argued that the word was traditional which led to another argument between the two. It took Armin to correct Eren and explain that Jean was in fact right and the word was traditional before the evening rolled on. Eren had ordered Barbecue Spare ribs with Lamb Chops in a spicy sauce and Thai Pork Chops in a sweet chilli sauce. His meal only consisted of meats much to Armin’s annoyance and so the blonde had ordered Eren to eat some of their fried mixed vegetables much to Eren’s disgust. Besides the fried mixed vegetables, Armin had ordered Singapore noodles. Looking at how small Armin’s portions were in comparison to Eren’s was insane, I couldn’t imagine the pair eating at a restaurant together, Armin having one plate whilst Eren has several.

Jean and I had ordered similar food, I didn’t want to order too much however Jean insisted so I went and indulged, ordering Smoked shredded Chicken with Seaweed, Salt baked prawns and pepper with Chicken Chow Mein. Jean had ordered Crispy Shredded beef with Chilli, Kung Po King Prawns and a Beef Chow Mein. Now that all of our food was placed around the small coffee table, the four of us took to the floor, Armin and Eren on one side, Jean and I on the other.

Eren’s eyes were watering by the time Armin dumped another spoonful of vegetables onto his plate. “Please stop Armin, I can’t eat anymore.” Eren complained and Armin looked sternly at the brunette.

“Maybe if you ate more vegetables, I wouldn’t have to do this.” Armin stated matter of factly, as another forkful of vegetables attacked Eren’s closed mouth. I looked across at Jean, stuffing his face with his Chow Mein and I couldn’t help but smile at all the grease around his mouth. Who would have pegged Jean for such a sloppy eater? Jean glanced my way and I felt a flush of embarrassment at being caught watching.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” Jean asked, eyes wide.

“Yeah, in fact you do.” I replied, instinctively moving my hand to swipe at the most noticeable offender at the corner of his mouth. Jean’s tongue darted out, licking my finger and I flinched. “Hey!” I shouted and Jean laughed.

“That’s what you get for touching, this beauty without permission.” Jean said bashfully and I rolled my eyes.

“Well this beauty, should learn how to clean their own face whilst their eating.” I retorted, only to get a pout.

“Ihr Freund ist so schön.” Eren shouted, whilst kicking Jean’s shin.

“Ow, you bastard.” Jean shouted, rubbing his leg dramatically.

“Dass ist er.” Armin said softly and I looked over at the blonde, amazed.

“Am I the only one here who doesn’t speak German.” I complained feeling out of the loop and Jean pinched my cheek.

“It’s because you’re not cool enough.” Jean said, a sly smile to his face. “Your chicken tastes great by the way.” Jean said coyly and I looked down at my own carton to see several pieces of shredded chicken missing.

“Jean!” I exclaimed, fork diving for his Chilli beef. I was stopped by Jean’s hands holding my own in a deathlike grip. Using my other hand, I reached down for his fallen fork and scooped up a forkful. Jean’s eyes widen as the fork drew closer to my mouth.

“No you don’t.” Jean shouted, releasing my hand and reaching forward to grab my face, I dodged to the side evading his prying hands and stuffing the fork into my mouth. “You bastard.” Jean screeched, only to my and Eren’s laughter.

“You get what you give.” Armin said quietly. I was expecting Jean to explode with rage but he only looked at the other blonde with a nod of his head, all fire and rage extinguished by Armin’s remark.

“How’d it taste.” Jean asked shortly. The four of sat sprawled on the floor. Eren’s arm around Armin’s shoulder, the blonde lay against him with a content look on their face. Jean was rummaging through the pocket of his now crumpled blazer jacket. He pulled out a black box and a lighter.

“Sweet and spicy.” _Like you_. I almost said but I stopped myself in time.

“Coming for a smoke.” Jean asked, tilting his head to the balcony. The strands of his hair had escaped the onslaught of gel and now lay across his forehead. His tie had been removed some time ago and now the top two buttons of his white shirt were unbuttoned, revealing the pale skin of his neck and the sharp outline of collarbones. I breathed in deeply, my eyes raking lower and lower. The slim fit of his grey work trousers clinging to slender legs. “You don’t have to but I wouldn’t want to leave you alone with these lovers.” I raked my eyes back up to Jean’s face and I nodded.

When we stepped out onto the balcony, the evening was breezy, the crisp air blowing our hair. There was faint smell of citrus in the air that I recognised as Jean’s shower gel, somehow it smelled stronger in the fresh air as we stood shoulder to shoulder on the balcony. Jean opened the black box in his hand and pulled out a slim black cigarette, parting his lips slightly he sucked on the edge as he waited for the flame to set it a light.  A plume of thick smoke escaped Jean’s lips as he tilted his head back and exhaled, eyes focused on the darkening sky. I tried to follow his line of sight, really tried to focus on anything else however I was transfixed with the way he looked out here in the evening air, hair slightly rumpled, top two buttons of his shirt undone and a black cigarette at his lips.

“You know.” Jean said sometime shortly. The cigarette between his fingers was halfway finished, the rest of it, a spicy aroma in the air around us. “I was coming to your store, when I got the call from Eren. At the time, I was thinking of surprising you and I don’t know invite you back to mine.” Jean took another long and hard pull, exhaling shortly, his voice huskier when he spoke next. “God, I’m going to sound so clingy but you know, I’ve been working on Eren’s case for a while now, they want to charge him with assault even though we all know it was self-defence for not only himself but Armin. I’m up to my knees in paper work trying to find a way for this all to work out but you know it’s not the first time Eren’s had these charges against him and it won’t be the last. Look…” Jean rubbed at his temples with frustration. “What I’m trying to say is that, I’ve missed you a lot. Not being able to hang out as much, just as we got closer. It kinda sucks, right.” His amber eyes, weren’t focusing on the sky but my own eyes and I found myself turning away.

“Hey, we’re going to hang out on Friday, don’t worry about it.” I asserted and Jean hummed in agreement.

“Yeah, I guess. I just don’t want to lose another friend because of work.” Jean said quietly, he lowered his head, loose strands of hair falling into his eyes. I nudged him with my shoulder lightly.

“Hey! you can’t get rid of me that easily. Come here.” Sucking in a deep breath, I reached an arm around Jean’s waist, when he didn’t flinch or move, I wrapped the other arm around him in an embrace. “See, I’m still here.” I whispered against the side of his head.

“I can feel that.” Jean said, his voice sounding harassed and I laughed, squeezing him tighter. “Hey, hey now. A hug is one thing but squeezing my intestines out of my belly button is something else entirely.” Jean complained and I squeezed tighter.

“I’ll stop squeezing, if you put some effort into this hug and actually hugged me back.” I laughed and Jean scrunched his face up.

“Weren’t you the one who was supposed to be comforting me, why do I have to put some effort into the hug?” Jean groaned, with frustration. His arms still in front of him.

“Because a hug is a two person job.” I stated matter of factly, only to receive a sigh from Jean who twisted around in my arms and snaked his arms around my neck. Several momentsthat were probably longer than necessarily passed and I moved my arms from around his waist. Jean still held onto me and I froze for a moment. “Hey Jean, you can let go now.” I whispered. He frantically pulled away, looking away Jean took another hard pull on his almost finished cigarette. “So, do you feel any better now, knowing that you’ve been cursed with having me as a friend?” I challenged, receiving only a whine in reply.

“Please don’t remind me of my choices.” Jean said blandly but he was smiling that wide smile, the smile I’ve only seen in fleeting moments, the smile I want to see more of. When we were getting ready to go, Eren pulled the pair of us in for a hug, slapping us each on our backs.

“Thanks for saving me Jean and Marco, you freckled beast, thanks for saving Armin.” Eren’s gratitude came in the form of sore backs, Armin on the other hand, waved shyly from beside Eren, their eyes averting my gaze as I said my goodbyes. When Jean and I reached my car he punched my arm lightly before jogging up to his own car. I watched him pull out and drive away before I started the engine and drove home.

* * *

 

 

Inside of the Juke, Jean messed around with the radio stations. His eyebrows knotted up in aguish as he tried to find a station to his liking. “Don’t they play anything good these days?” Jean complained, slumping back into the seat.

“Hey, look in the glove compartment, I have some stuff in there.” I supplied and Jean’s hands were already rummaging through my collection. He pulled out an album with a blue cover and the face of FKA Twigs on the front. “Now that is a very good album, the songs are incredible, her voice just makes me get into the mood.” I cooed, voice thick with admiration. I looked over at Jean hoping he’d sense the vibe and put the album on but all I got in return was one raised brow and a face that said ‘This looks like the worst album ever made’. Chewing my lick with impatience, I turned away. “By the time you choose something to play, we’d already be there.”

“Well then at least, we would have something to listen to on the way back… hey, you’re right though, the cinema is on the next turning.” Jean noted, craning his neck around to look out of the window. Today Jean was wearing a black V-neck, a green checkered shirt around his waist and ripped black jeans. His hair was quiffed up and I may have noticed a black lining of eyeliner along his lower lash line.

“Ugh, whatever.” I pulled into the parking lot, parking the car as close to the cinema as possible. I looked down at my own ensemble, once the engine had stalled, noticing how my wardrobe had gradually gotten darker over the last few days. I was also wearing a pair of black skinny jeans, black combat boots and a lavender t-shirt with white Aztec patterns. Looking at the time, I slapped Jean’s thigh. “We’re almost late and we still haven’t brought our tickets, you muppet.” I shouted.

“Why am I the muppet?” Jean asked, crossing his arms.

“Because you’re the one who was still asleep when I pulled up outside of your house.”

“I was having a nap, you wouldn’t believe how stressful work was today.” Jean retorted.

“Dude, I told you I was picking you up for nine, you should have set an alarm.”

“Well, the more we debate why I’m a muppet, we could actually be walking into the cinema, queuing up and buying our tickets.” Jean announced and I looked across at him, a smile on my face.

“Fair point, come on.” We exited the car and jogged to the entrance. The line wasn’t too long and we had out tickets in no time. The only problem next was food. “It’d be cheaper, if we share a drink.” I declared pointing at the meal deal on the menu.

“But I drink a lot and I’d feel guilty for drinking it all.” Jean drawled, earning a worried glance from the man behind the counter.

“Well, with this large popcorn deal, you are able to get free refills.” The red haired man behind the counter explained.

“Fair point.” Jean and I said at the same time, earning a smile from the man.

“First date.” He inquired bringing our popcorn to us.

“No.” Jean and I said at the same time, we received another smile from the man.

“That’s what I said.” He replied, handing us a large cup. I handed the guy the change and took the cup. Jean was already eating the popcorn, his eyes on the women around us. I sighed.

“What drink should we get?” I asked, at the drink station.

“Coke.” Jean mumbled around a mouthful of popcorn. “And don’t forget the ice.” I groaned in frustration. Maybe sharing wasn’t such a great idea.

* * *

 

 

We shuffled into the theatre, halfway through the trailers and I hissed in annoyance. Damn, I was looking forward to the trailers. Jean only looked happy now that he didn’t have to watch all of the trailers, I could have punched him but he was holding the popcorn and we’d be screwed if he dropped it. We found our seats on the third row from the top and I sat down with a sigh. “Hey, stop eating all the popcorn, there won’t be any left.” I complained only to receive some popcorn to the face. “Hey Jean, stop wasting it, I could have ate that.”

“Eat it then.” Jean said, pointing to the fallen pieces in my lap.

“Only if you eat some as well.” Jean only shrugged and reached into my lap, picking up three pieces before chewing them as if it was nothing.

“Just give me that.” I pulled the box from his hands and dug in, the sweet popcorn dissolving on my tongue. Jean turned away, he was being unusually quiet and so I looked across at him. Jean’s eyes were focused on something a few rows down, I leaned forward, wondering what he was looking at but Jean turned towards me, slim fingers grabbing a handful of popcorn, a blank expression on his face.

When the movie finally started, a comfortable silence fell. The rustling of the bag and the occasional munching was the only sounds between us. I recognised Captain America straight away, what was his name again Steven Rigbert, I may not be a Marvel fan but I wasn’t stupid however as the movie progressed, more and more characters were introduced and I had no idea who they were, Casting a glance at Jean, I was happy that he at least squealed in delight and pointed when a character he recognised appeared on screen. ‘I love the guy they chose for Falcon, he’s awesome.’ ‘Natasha looks so hot, with her hair straight, fucking hell, I’d fuck that.’ ‘Oh my God, S.H.I.E.L.D is fucked, what’s Fury going to do?’ It was when Jean screamed ‘Bucky!’ that I lost my patience. “Who the hell is Bucky?” I hissed in annoyance the same time the actor on screen said the exact line. I received a wide eyed look from Jean and a few people close by.

“Are you being serious?” Jean asked eyes still trained on the screen.

“Yes.” I replied.

“Didn’t you see the first film?” Jean asked.

“There was a first film?” This time Jean was looking at me like I was a monster who had crawled from underneath his bed. “What?” I asked worried.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Jean hissed. I only shook my head and he rolled his eyes, looking back at the film.

Every now and then I’d spot Jean looking down to where a man and woman sat together, their heads was facing forward and Jean took that opportunity to look. I was getting ready to ask, who it was but Jean’s gaze returned to the screen. Anxiety began to scrawl on my skin as I tried to wonder who Jean would look at in that way. I had returned the drink to the holder when a hand was pulling my face to the side. My heart began to beat faster when I saw Jean’s eyes fluttering shut, his mouth slightly parted. This was it, this was what I was waiting for. I closed the space and Jean almost jumped, I wasn’t sure if he was expecting me to kiss him. His lips were slightly chapped and so I pulled my tongue out, letting it wet his lower lip. Jean shivered beside me and I went in for the kiss, pushing my tongue into his mouth, Jean let out an almost audible sound before pulling away. It was over before, it had started. I looked at him, his eyes unfocused, his lips wet and swollen but then Jean was looking at the man with the black hair and suddenly I knew who this man was. It was Marlo. The only guy, Jean had fallen for.

I looked away, ignoring the way the man looked at Jean with sad eyes or the way Jean looked down at him longingly or the way that my heart still raced from the taste still fresh on my lips. I lifted the straw to my lips and I attempted to wash away his taste but the more I tried, the more I failed. His taste was still too fresh on my mouth. I stood then, shuffling past Jean and down the stairs. I didn’t know if he was watching me leave, for I never looked back.

Half an hour later, I felt my phone vibrate against my leg. I was sitting on the bench outside of the theatre, not wanting to leave Jean without a ride to get back home but also not wanting to go back in and face Jean with his love sickness but most importantly not wanting to see Jean’s first true love, the guy with black bowl cut hair, long narrow face and tanned skin nor did I want to think about how similar the two of us looked. “Marlo, you fucking bastard.” I raised a hand to my mouth shocked. I haven’t swore in a long time, especially towards someone I barely know. This man could be the nicest person on the planet but the fact that he had the chance to taste Jean, in places I could only dream, I could only hate him. “Ah shit, it seems Dark Marco was never truly gone… I’m sure Krista would love to know, her favourite Marco had never left really left.” The phone vibrated several more times and so I sank into the bench and pulled the phone out of my pocket.

**From: Jean**

Where are you man?

 

**From: Jean**

Are you alive? Did you collapse in the toilet?

 

**From: Jean**

Oh I understand, you got the shits. Take your time mate.

 

**From: Jean**

You don’t got the shits do you? Did I do something wrong?

I laughed at the last one. Do something wrong, Jean your so fucking dense it’s unbelievable. I didn’t reply, I just put the phone away. _Would it be so bad if I left Jean here? I’m sure he could get a ride form Marlo._ The name tasted like poison even inside of my head. Marlo, was here with a woman though, maybe that’s his girlfriend. _Would he still offer Jean a ride knowing that he has his partner by his side? If I left now, would Jean finally see that he had done something wrong?_ I was already walking to the escalator before I could stop myself. Walking past the line of people waiting to go into the theatres, walking out of the doors, a man alone on a Friday night. I walked slowly to my car, my legs moving mechanically as my heart struggled with going back for Jean or leaving him behind. Climbing inside I relaxed into my seat, happy that I was away from him. Well I was happy until I smelled the strong scent of citrus. On the seat beside me was his leather jacket and I seethed, the anger boiling inside of me as I realised that I really cannot get away from Jean Kirsten. _Fuck_.

“ _….Just nod your head and get up. I'm not going let you give up, babe. I know that sometimes you wished I'd go away, away.”_ FKA Twigs was playing in the background when I saw a pale white figure run out into the parking lot, arms wrapped around their bodies and a pained expression on his face. His head whipping side to side as he searched for the car, my car. _Here comes the princess_. Jean’s hands went for his phone and he held it up to his ear, a few moments later my phone began to ring. Sighing, I answered.

“Marco, where are you? Did you lea-“

“I’m still here Jean, I’ll flash my lights.” I cut Jean off before he could continue, my headlights flashed once and Jean’s head turned my way. Looking left and right, he ran into the parking lot, long legs sprinting. The passenger side opened and Jean threw himself in shaking.

“Oh man, I should have brought my coat inside with me.” Jean said as his teeth chattered. I leaned forward and turned the air con off.

“Good thing you didn’t, otherwise I wouldn’t be here.” I said more harsher than I planned and Jean turned towards me, amber eyes narrowed.

“You was going to ditch me here.” Jean shouted, whilst pulling himself into his jacket.

“I considered it.”

“Why Marco, what did I even do?” Jean shouted even louder, his eyes slitted.

“Look, lemme just take you home, we can talk then. I’m not really into people watching me argue in a car park.” I strapped myself in and Jean did the same without speaking a word. “ _Don't we get another chance? Did I make the final stand above the ones that are oh so perfect, cause they know how to work it, work it, work it?”_ FKA Twigs answered all of the silent questions inside of my head as I pulled out of the car park and into the night streets.

* * *

 

I pulled up outside of Jean’s house. I didn’t cut the engine, nor did I undo my seatbelt. I just sat there staring through the windshield, ignoring Jean’s stares or the fact his hand covered my own, on the steering wheel. I ignored the coolness his skin and I certainly ignored the tear trailing down his cheek. “Well.” Jean started. “I guess, you don’t want to come inside.” I continued to look forward. “Fuck you Marco.” Jean shouted. He opened the door roughly before slamming it hard enough that I felt myself jump. He ran up his porch steps and disappeared into his house before I gained the courage to call him back.

Am I over reacting? Friends help each other out right? I was just helping him make another man jealous, helping him get over the thing that has left him so confused and mad all these years later. No, I’m not over reacting. Jean used me like a pawn, ready to be disposed off once he makes his move. I have every right to be mad at him, every right to consider walking up the porch steps and forcing my way into his, every right to shout at him and make him feel the pain that’s running through my chest. Am I over reacting? Jean’s the only person who would know because Jean has felt this feeling many years ago. _Jean, you idiot_. Turning the volume up, I pulled away from the black house, ignoring the fact the curtain twitched inside.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, that happened. I actually typed out over three thousand words of both Jean and Marco arguing over the events of the movie and then making up for it bl style but then I was suddenly possessed by the 'Don't-leave-it-on-a-good-note' Demon and well as you can see, I didn't really end things at all. Poor Jean's probably running in circles wondering what he has done wrong.
> 
> Will Jean make it up to Marco? Will Marco finally express his feelings? Will Levi talk more about his cage fighting days? Will Levi the Cat get the neighbours cat pregnant? All will be revealed in a few weeks time.
> 
> P.S. I kinda needed more Eren and Armin interactions with Jean and Marco. Cobaltrainbow suggested that I should write a Eremin side story which is crazy because I've actually started one and hopefully I should be able to post it in a few weeks.
> 
> P.S. I was about to post without the translations, once again I have no knowledge of German so if there are any mistakes, please correct me.
> 
> "Das ist keine Freundschaft" - When Jean says this, he is saying "This is not a friendship."  
> “Oh, welche Freunde wir sind.” - Eren says "Oh, what friends we are."  
> “Magst Du ihn?” - Eren asks "Do you like him?"  
> “Nein - er ist mein Freund. Nicht mehr und nicht weniger.” - Jean replies with "No- he's my friend. Nothing more and nothing less." the second sentence, can also be translated as no more and no less.  
> “Ihr Freund ist so schön.” Eren say's "Your friend is so beautiful." and Armin agrees saying “Dass ist er.” which is "That he is."
> 
> I think that's all the translation if I've missed any, I do apologise.
> 
> *Update* I changed "He is" to "That he is".. thank you sparklingunicornpants for the correction!


	7. Distance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eren's impending trial is only hours away and Jean seeks comfort in Marco but is Marco prepared to speak to Jean after the kiss and just how much comfort does Jean want. With the preparations for Sasha and Connie's wedding and Macro's birthday weeks away, it won't take much for Dark Marco to make an appearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack!
> 
> Hi guys, I'm so sorry for taking that unexpected hiatus and I'd like to apologise for disappearing without warning. My first term back to university was absolute chaos, whoever says the second year is easier, is lying out of their arse. I have never been so stressed in my entire life, I had seven assignments, three which were practical including creating a music video, two which were theory based and two which were reports. I was also working at the Clothes Show Live for my work placement so as you can see, I had little to no time for myself.
> 
> I was only able to type here and there but I was able to somehow get over ten thousands words for you guys, to make up for disappearing of the side of the earth. This chapter will be continued in chapter eight, as it is long as heck and something's are left unresolved.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and I'll update soon.
> 
> Also just to warn, there is one slur in this chapter, apologies.

 

_The sun poured through the blinds, casting shadows along the crème walls. The sounds of cars driving past woke Marco as he lay on his side. The city of Jinae was alive, everyone and everything in it yet as Marco snuggled deeper into his quilt he felt quite the opposite. A bird chirped softly, outside. Its calls sweet and gentle in comparison to the roars of engines, stirring him further and further away from sleep. At first the bird’s song was relaxing, it soothed Marco as he awoke from his slumber however the more the bird continued to chirp, Marco began to feel agitated. There was one other person he liked to hear from in the morning, whenever he was getting ready for work or baking a cake on a hot summers day but Marco doesn’t want to hear from that person today and so as the bird continued to chirp outside of his apartment, Marco couldn’t escape the thoughts of what happened that Friday, several days ago. Squeezing his eyes shut, Marco attempted to cocoon himself in his quilt, trying his best to curl in upon himself, in a bid to cast himself away from the world._

_In the depths of his mind, Marco knew he was over reacting, he knew it was a kiss, nothing more and nothing less yet in his heart Marco couldn’t quell the feeling of betrayal because in that moment as Jean’s lips brushed his own, in that moment when their lips connected, Marco knew that it wasn’t his imagination when the breath hitched in Jean’s mouth and he certainly knew that there was another pair of lips, hungry and eager. Jean had kissed back. Whether the kiss was for his own personal vengeance or a way to show that he had moved on, Jean had felt something and Marco was sure of that. Sinking further into his quilt, Marco closed his eyes._

_Sleep wasn’t waiting for him._

_Sleep wasn’t standing beside the door to his dreams nor was he feeling a pull into the darkness that usually claims him when sleep welcomes him into the abyss of his reveries. No. Marco could only groan in annoyance as he sat upright against his headboard. He was planning on spending this Bank Holiday Monday, wrapped up in his blankets with not a care in the world however it seems, nobody ever gets what they want. “Unless they are Jean.” The words had spilled out of his mouth before he could stop them. Finishing the thoughts threatening to destroy his mind. Falling back onto his side, Marco rolled over and looked at the pictures on his bedside table._

_There was a group shot of Krista, Marco and Ymir at the beach a few years back. Krista in a pink and white polka dot swimsuit, smiling widely as Marco and Ymir lifted her into the air. Smiling, Marco remembered the moment they asked a passer-by to capture this shot and Marco was glad he had. This photo is one of the rare moments, to see Ymir smile with so much happiness that Marco almost felt like he was there, watching his best friend smile, all over again._

_The next picture, in a lavender frame was of Leonora and Marco playing dress up. Marco stood tall and proud in a fireman’s costume, the helmet far too big for his head and it had fallen and covered an eye. Leonora in her Veterinarian scrubs had reached over to fix it for him. Some things have changed and some things have stayed the same, for one Marco never advanced on being a fireman, as much as his dad had hoped, his mother had claimed it was a six year olds innocence but as the twins grew older and Leonora began helping out at the local vet it appeared a six year olds innocence can take you a long way. Sighing, Marco rolled over onto his back. At moments like this, those were the people he would call but it was also moments like this that Marco would realise just how much his friends and family depended on him._

_With Ymir and Krista at each other’s throats, it seems unlikely that Marco would be able to get a response from out of either of them and there was also Leonora of course but Marco still hasn’t forgiven her for betraying him. There was one other person Marco could call but his photo was not on Marco’s bedside table and he quite liked it that way._

 

Somewhere to the left, my phone chimed, once and then twice. Reaching across I squinted at the name on the screen. Jean. It wasn’t the first text, I’ve received from him since I dropped him home that Friday night and I have a feeling it won’t be the last. I haven’t ignored him completely, my Madre has taught me better than that however the replies I have sent, have been sparse and very vague so vague the conversation ends before it can truly start. Do I feel bad? Yes. Am I going to stop anytime soon? No. I refuse to acknowledge Jean any more than I need to.

Unlocking my phone, I read the message.

**From: Jean**

Hey Marco, I could really use a friend right now.. You know someone

who said they’d always be there for me.

**From: Jean**

Please Marco I need you

I could taste the blood in my mouth before I realised I was biting my lip. Guilt was ebbing away at me, as I reread the first message. I told Jean I’d be his anchor, be there for him whenever he needed a friend. He’s slowly losing Sasha and Connie and now he’s going to lose me, if I don’t get a grip of myself. Chucking my phone to the side, I climbed out of my bed and headed for the bathroom.

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Oh honey, get a grip of yourself.” I shouted at the TV, a tub of Ben & Jerry’s Cookie Dough Ice cream, melting on the coffee table, a spoon heavily heaped with ice cream in my hand. “Scott has done more than enough. You don’t deserve someone like him.” Stuffing the spoon into my mouth, I sucked the ice cream off, feeling better already. There was a knock at the door and I jumped startled. It was seven in the evening and I wasn’t expecting anybody.

I was already at the door when I remembered I was only wearing my boxers. Turning to run back to my room, the door knocked again and I sighed loudly. Peeping through the peephole, I couldn’t tell who the figure was but they were a male for sure. They were tall and slim, a black trilby covering any hair and a long black coat, past their knees. Breathing in, I unlocked the door and opened it ever so slightly so that only the side of my face was visible. “Hello.” I said quietly. There was a rustling of plastic before the man turned. I tried to scowl and look all dark and broody but the bouquet of flowers in his hands shattered any attempt of being stoic.

“Hey.” Jean said shyly, I was half ready to grab the flowers and slam the door in his face, when I actually looked at his face. His skin was paler than usual and there were dark circles under his eyes.

“Jean.” I said his name and his amber eyes widened expectantly but I couldn’t go on. Sensing my discomfort Jean coughed into his hand.

“Er Ymir, told me your address.”

“Oh he did.” I mumbled, irritated that Ymir had broken rule number one, never give out my address without my permission but strangely enough, it didn’t surprise me. It’s not the first time Ymir has given my address to another guy but it will be the first time that a guy will leave my apartment without limping. 

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that.. I guess just really need a _friend_ to talk too.” The words bit at me once again, wanting to get under my skin and they succeeded. I pushed the door open wider welcoming Jean inside. For a second, I thought I saw Jean’s eyes flash and then he smiled, his eyes averting my face. A sudden chill brushed against my skin and I could feel my cheeks reddening.

“Come inside, let me just go and get changed.” I moved aside, letting Jean in before jogging towards my bedroom. Once inside, I shut my door and leaned against it, eyes shut. _Just be thankful you weren’t sporting a half chub or something._ Pulling on a pair of white three quarter length jeans and a light blue tank top, I strolled into the room to find Jean staring at the photographs on the living room walls. At the sounds of my footsteps, he turned a sad smile on his face.

“Ymir said that you like roses.” Jean mumbled as he handed the flowers my way. I accepted the flowers with a wide smile, annoyed at my inability to be mad for several minutes. _I need to step up my scowl game_.

“What else has Ymir said?” I asked, suddenly feeling hot under the collar. I went to work on the flowers, chopping of the ends and placing the bunch of roses into a vase of water. Jean coughed awkwardly behind me.

“A lot but trust me, it’s nothing bad.” Jean said and I exhaled, thankful that Ymir held back on the embarrassing things. “You were avoiding me weren’t you?” When Jean spoke again, his voice was quiet and his eyes looked hurt.

“Why are you here Jean?” I avoided the question and he sighed.

“Eren’s trial is tomorrow.”

“So soon.” My footsteps stilled and I stood there stunned, the plastic packaging limp in my hand. Shaking my head slowly, I walked over to the bin.

“Yeah and I’m worried about him, about Armin too.” Jean rubbed a hand at his eyes and when he looked back I noticed how red they were. Has he not been sleeping? He stood awkwardly in the centre of the room and I felt guilty for not offering a seat sooner.

“Hey, sit down. Would you like a drink?” I asked and Jean shook his head, sitting down. I smiled and Jean raised an eyebrow in question. “You’re sitting in my seat.” I said and Jean laughed, the sound was hoarse and he coughed into his hand.

“I was wondering why it was so warm.” Scooting over onto the other cushion, Jean made room for me and I sat down beside him. “You must think I look like a right mess, don’t you.” There was strong smell of spicy smoke on his clothes and the hint of alcohol on his breath, I inhaled sharply. I’ve missed that smell, I’ve missed Jean. _Good grief Marco, it’s only been a week_.

“No, I’m just worried. I’ve never seen you like this.” Jean turned towards me, his hand on my thigh. I shifted my gaze towards his hands, the veins running along the pale skin, before turning away to look at the melting carton of ice cream on the coffee table, avoiding his eyes.

“Oh man, I’m never like this the day before a trial. I’m all organised, everything is set out for what I’m going to say, the proof, the evidence, everything is done but now, now that I know there’s more chance that Eren is not going to come back after the trial, I’m freaking out.” Jean breathed in deeply, his hand still on my thigh and I swallowed hard.

“What did he do that was so bad?” I asked, sitting forward and looking into Jean’s eyes. He looked back, another sad smile on his face.

“Well you see, normally it’s self-defence that’s the reason he has only gotten away with community service but now it’s assault. A few guys have been targeting Armin for the past few years and they went a step to far. Eren went a step even further, hospitalised the one guy. The poor bastard had to eat through a straw, literally.” Jean’s eyes widened to emphasise his point and I shrunk back suddenly seeing Eren for what he really was. This is why he is called the Problem Child after all. “If he gets arrested, he’ll be in there for five years, five years of Armin being all alone. I can’t let that happen, I won’t let that happen.” Jean rummaged in his pocket, producing a familiar looking box. Shucking out a cigarette he turned towards me, amber eyes narrowed and his sharp jaw set. “Do you have anywhere I can smoke?”

“You can smoke here, its fine.” It wasn’t fine but in all honesty, I’ve missed Jean and just having him beside me was enough to sate the hunger for his company. Lighting the cigarette, he took a long drag, exhaling a plume of smoke into the air. After a while Jean seemed to visibly settle down and he sunk back onto the couch. His hair was slicked back as usual yet those three wayward strands found their way out and lay across his forehead, the black coat sat snug against his body, the fabric was a rich black with leather panels that gave him a mixture of elegance and malice. As I sat beside Jean, I felt a shiver through my bones and a sense of Déjà vu, I felt like this back when I first saw Jean in my store, his body held this aura, this sense of importance and now even though Jean is no longer a stranger and a friend, somehow his aura has intensified. I’m drawn to Jean’s aura, to his sense of being and I can’t get enough. _Damn, I’m in it deep_.

The sound of laughter erupted from the screens and Jean jumped. “Oh no, oh dude why?” Jean groaned. I looked at the Kardashian’s laughing and a smile rose to my own lips.

“What, got a problem with my taste in TV?”

“Hell yeah! This is the worst thing created. Marco are you sure you haven’t got a screw loose or something?”

“What can I say, I love me some Kardashian drama.” Jean pulled a sour face which was soon replaced by his lopsided smile. He reached into the pocket of his coat and I could only stare in amazement as he pulled out a DVD. _How deep are those pockets? Are those pockets Narnia?_

“Hey, I wanted to apologise for whatever I did wrong. I’m still not sure why you’re avoiding me but I want to make it up to you. I also believe that if I resolve the wrongs I’ve done to you, maybe I’ll be a little more clearheaded for tomorrow.” He passed the DVD and I looked at the case before laughing. Jean scratched at his head, an annoyed look on his face. “Hey, don’t think I forgot our deal. Prove to me this remake is better than the original or you have to buy me food.”

“I don’t recall that being the penalty but Deal.” I was about to stand when Jean, touched my arm. The unexpected cold from his hands making me flinch involuntarily. _I’m sure that wasn’t a look of sadness on Jean’s face, I’m sure I’m just imagining it_.

“Hey Marco you don’t have an ashtray by any chance?”

“No but you can use this.” I passed the lid from the ice cream across the table and Jean leaned forward, shaking the ash onto the lid. “Hey, I can hang your coat up if you’d like.” Jean’s eyes widened as if he suddenly realised he was still wearing it. Pushing the cigarette between his slightly chapped lips, Jean rose and shook himself out of his black coat. I sucked in a deep breath when he passed the coat my way. The white V-neck clung to his slim frame and his black jeans were tight, considerably tighter than usual, in fact his V-neck looks tighter too. _Jean Kirstein you are going to send me to an early grave_. Grabbing the coat, I hurried into my room. I didn’t smell it along the way.

When I returned, Jean had taken his boots off and was sitting cross legged on the couch. How he managed to even move in those jeans is astounding. Upon my rival, Jean looked up a smile on his face, the cigarette hovering by his lips. I walked over towards the TV and crouched down. After setting up Teen Wolf, I padded over to the lights and flicked the switch.

“Tell me Marco, have you ever smoked?” Jean asked, his attention on me.

“Oh no, I’ve never really considered it.” I plopped down beside him, casually draping my arm against the back of the couch.

“Do you wanna?” Jean asked, shuffling forward slightly. “You don’t have to smoke it, if you don’t want to.” Jean’s eyes suddenly narrowed and he looked towards the ground. “We can always shotgun.”

“What the hell is that?” I balked, unfamiliar with the term.

“Hey, come here.” Jean kneeled awkwardly in front of me, one of his bony knees pressing into my thigh. “Just open your mouth and suck.” Jean instructed and I laughed.

“Jean that’s the most gayest thing, I’ve ever heard you say.” There was a stinging sensation travelling down my arm. “Ow Jean!” He only grunted in response but I could see the whites of his teeth in the darkness and what a beautiful smile that was.

“Actually instead of opening your mouth, open it slightly and suck... quickly Marco before this finishes.” Jean shouted impatiently and I sighed, parting my lips. Jean inhaled deeply, rocking forward slightly on his arm, he leaned forward, his pointed nose barely a breaths space away from my own. Blowing out the smoke, Jean’s eyes closed but my eyes could only widen as I watched him blow the smoke into my mouth. Sucking slightly as instructed, I inhaled the smoke but I began to gradually lose control as Jean leaned closer. His lips brushed against my own, his lips parting further and _is that smoke travelling down my lungs, no I’m sure that’s not supposed to happen_. I spluttered coughing and Jean fell backwards slightly, a hand wiping at his lips and cheek.

“Oh dude, you just spat all over me.” Jean groaned, a look of displeasure on his face.

“I’m sorry.” I gasped, pulling back to cover my mouth.

“It’s fine.” Jean spoke quietly, his eyes on the TV screen. “If you can’t handle a shotgun, then I guess you’re not a smoker.” He ground the cigarette into the lid before picking up the remote. “Allow me to do the honours.” That was the last time Jean looked at me, throughout that evening.

 

* * *

 

 

I awoke to the morning light spilling through the blinds, a pain in my neck and the weight of something on my shoulder. I didn’t even have to look to know Jean was fast asleep beside me, his breath tickled my neck and his soft snores filled the silence. “Hey.” I whispered, shaking Jean slightly. His head lolled backwards and his mouth widened, only to emit louder snores. “Jean, wake up.” I shook him again and he grunted in annoyance however it seemed my constant shaking finally got through to him. He sat up, a small trail of drool glistened on his chin and his amber eyes were narrowed.

“What time is?” He rasped out hoarsely before coughing into his hands. I reached over for my phone and showed him the screen.

“After seven in the morning.”

“Dude, why’d you wake me up so early?” He complained, eyes looking down at his hands across my lap and pulling them away embarrassed. I pursed my lips in frustration.

“Jean, you have a case today.”

“Oh shit, I forgot about that.” He groaned, rubbing his hands at his eyes weakly. He froze suddenly and his eyes snapped open. “We have the early trial today and it starts at n- shit Marco, I gotta go get my suit, I gotta get ready.” Jean stood up sharply, his eyes wide and panicked. “I can’t go looking like this.” He gestured to the V-neck which was now twisted to the left, the v revealing a large section of his collarbones and shoulder before gesturing down to the jeans that screamed 1990’s Punk Rebel and not Astounding Lawyer.

“Oh Jean, you are royally screwed.”

“Marco!”

“Alright, what do you want me to even do?”

“Drop me off at mine, I can get dressed in the back of your car.”

“Then what about me, I can’t go looking like this.”

“You can get dressed in the back too, come on Marco grab some stuff so we can go.” Jean ordered and I stood up obediently, running to my room. I was back in a matter of moments with a white shirt and blue smart trousers. I threw Jean’s coat at his back, making him yelp. “You got your keys?” He screeched out as he bent down to pick up his coat.

“Yeah.” I shouted catching up to Jean’s retreating frame.

The drive to Jean’s house was pure chaos, he was asking me to drive through red lights, to not wait at the zebra crossings and as much as I admire Jean, there is no way I’m going to get points on my license. When I did park outside of his house, he was in and out in no time. “Step on it.” He shouted and I rolled my eyes, at the clichéd phrase.

When we got to the court, I parked around the corner so that Jean and I could get dressed. Jean was practically down to his boxers, when I climbed into the back. His pales legs kicking at the trousers around his ankles and I laughed. “What?!” He shouted, his chest heaving with frustration.

“It’s.. it’s..” I slapped a hand to my mouth to try and stop the onset of giggles. “It’s not the first time, you’ve gotten your trousers stuck around your ankles, remember that time you got drunk?”

“Now’s not the time Marco.” Jean huffed out, his pale cheeks pink. Before he turned, I spotted something black peeking above the waistband of his boxers. Lifting my own top over my head, I slipped into my shirt, working the buttons as quick as I could, ignoring Jean’s pained cries as he continuously hit his head against the window.

There was elbows and fists hitting into each other’s sides, as we fought for space in the back of my Juke and when we finally dressed with a few moments to spare, Jean turned to me and said “Now you see why I didn’t drive the Impala.” I didn’t mention the fact that there would have been more space in the Impala.

 

* * *

 

 

A pair of amber eyes were staying back at me, eyes filled with relief, eyes filled with triumph. “Holy fucking shit!” Jean shouted, his slim fingers digging into my shoulders. “Holy fucking shit Marco, we did it, we fucking did it!” Jean exclaimed, tiny smile lines at the corner of his eyes.

“You did it, Jean.” I was also smiling, at the man before me. In Court Eren had stood on the podium in a navy blue suit with a striking red tie, his face was stern but there was look of panic clear in his teal eyes. Jean however had stood forth, in a grey tweed suit and considering the fact he hadn’t washed, he looked as pristine as a model on a catwalk. In front of the jury and the judge, Jean was in his element, presenting the case with finesse and a confidence, I haven’t seen before. He was so different in front of these strangers, his entire demeanour changed, a shell of well-spoken words covering the foul mouthed man, I know. The sun had shown through the courtroom, illuminating his blonde hair like a halo. In that moment he was Eren’s guardian angel but deep down inside as I watched the jury come to their verdict, I wanted him to be mine.

A small bob of blonde hair rounded the corner and Armin ran up to us with a smile, the white dress twirling around their knees.

“Thank you.” They said, voice quiet, a hint of red to their cheeks. The thanks may have been clipped and short but from Armin, they meant more than if they were uttered by someone else. Jean bowed before Armin and the blonde giggled shyly. A woman rounded the corner next, her short black hair was clipped below her jaw and her eyes were black as coal. She stood at about 5”6 in a grey trouser suit with a white shirt, the only pop of colour to her outfit was the red scarf wrapped tightly around her neck, concealing her mouth. “Mikasa.” Armin called out, waving a small hand at the woman. Mikasa headed our way, a sulking Eren behind her.

“Mikasa.” Jean said her name quietly, his eyes suddenly focused on something that wasn’t me for once, the burning intensity of his gaze that I had grown used to was replaced by a cold chill as he looked at the woman before us. “I didn’t know, you came back from Paris.” Jean continued.

“What’s there to tell?” She mumbled, her eyes flickered to my own and I caught the recognition in her eyes. Mikasa pulled her scarf away from her lips. “Marco, if it isn’t you. It’s been a while hasn’t it.”

“It’s been, what six years, if I’m correct.” I replied and Mikasa nodded, a sudden warmth in her eyes.

“Ah so it has. Marco, tell me, have you been looking after my babies while I was gone. Armin said you helped them home one of the days.” At their name, Armin looked up suddenly aware of everyone else in the corridor.

“And you guys know each other how.” At Jean’s interruption, Mikasa’s eyes hardened, the raven haired woman obviously had some sort of grudge against him for she ignored his presence and continued.

“I’m thankful that you were able to help my pumpkin, Armin seems to find themselves in very peculiar situations so I’m honestly thankful that you were there… Eren, what are you doing? Eren leave him.” Mikasa sighed, turning back to me with a sad smile before running to Eren who was confronting one of the attackers. Armin cowered beside me, their small hands grabbing at the ends of their blonde hair.

“Hey, hey Armin, it’s going to be okay.” I said, hesitantly placing my hand on their shoulder. Armin stayed were they were, nodding quickly and so I let my hand settle there.

“Watch Armin for a moment, I’m coming back.” Jean instructed as he jogged up towards Eren. I stood beside Armin, my hand rubbing circles into their shoulder as we watched the confrontation. “Eren, listen hear you little shit.” Jean hissed, his well-spoken façade finally breaking. “Leave it be, he doesn’t deserve your time.” The stranger stood behind Jean, a leer on his beaten face but instead of succeeding in provoking Eren any further, Eren turned his back towards him and walked our way. Armin was in Eren’s arms before I blinked, their fists balling up Eren’s blazer as they clung to him. Eren nuzzled his face into Armin’s hair and I felt a sudden swelling of emotion as I watched the pair.

“Fucking Faggots!” One of the attackers shouted. Eren looked up, fury in his eyes but Jean only shook his head.

“His not worth it Eren, his not worth it.” Jean whispered.

“Hey Armin, don’t cry. I’m not going anywhere, okay. I’ve got you.” Eren kissed the top of Armin’s head before pulling away. “Ich liebe dich... Let’s go home, Min Min.” Armin nodded and Eren looked up at Jean. “Thank you so much Jean.” Eren held out his hand and Jean shook it. “Let me take you out for a drink one evening.” His teal eyes turned my way and he smiled. “The both of you, until next time.” Eren turned, Armin’s hand in his own.

“It was nice seeing you again Marco, even if it was for a short while.” Mikasa smiled and I waved awkwardly at her retreating form. Jean exhaled beside me and I turned to look at him.

“Hey Jean, I’m going to head to the store, I’m sorry I can’t take you back to my place to get your car.” I apologised and Jean shrugged, his mouth upturned at the corners, a small smile on his face.

“I’m done for the day, I thought I’d come to the store with you.” My eyes bulged out of my head at his words and I stood there speechless. “Come on Marco, we can’t leave your one customer hanging.” Jean laughed and I slapped his arm.

“Hey, I get a lot of customers, thank you very much.” I lied and Jean knew it but he let the subject drop much to my satisfaction and dignity.

 

* * *

 

 

“Marco, I know I promised on the drive over that I’ll help out but I think the sofa in the back is calling me.” Jean stretched his arms, his mouth stretching into an unattractive yawn.

“Oh no you don’t” I said, grabbing the collar of his blazer. “You’re going to sit down and unpack those pamphlets.” I ordered, only to receive a loud whine.

“Marcooooooo, I’m tired.” Jean complained, turning to face me.

“Well which idiot decided to turn up at my apartment, _uninvited_ with the complete first series of Teen Wolf?” I crossed my arms and Jean’s eyes narrowed, a look I’ve grown used to being on the receiving end of. His hands balled into fists at his sides as he bit into his lip, turning away from me, he walked towards my office, slamming the door behind him. Sighing, I walked over to my counter and sat down, the full box of pamphlets at my feet. Sighing again, I reached into the box and got to work.

It’s been three hours since Jean stormed into my office and I was standing to go and check on him, when the door to the store opened. Looking over my shoulder a familiar figure stepped through the door. A pair of hazel eyes caught my own, as he entered the store, a goofy smile on his face.

“Marco, my man.” Connie said as he walked towards me. “How you been amigo? Long-time no speak.”

“Ah, I’ve been okay, a little tired but I’m fine. How’s Sasha and yourself?” I leaned on the counter, a hand beneath my chin.

“The last few days have been hell, all I’ve heard is Ymir talking about Krista trying to ruin his life and Jean complain about how he has ruined your life and I think I’m down to my last bottle of fucks to give but luckily Sasha’s excitement has calmed the estrés down. Actually the entire reason, I’m here is because of Sasha...” Connie chittered happily but I couldn’t forget the way he spoke about Jean and the way he worried about me. “… so we’re thinking of getting so fucked that the story of how we made it home alive, will go down in history.” Connie slammed his hands onto the counter and I jumped. “Dios Maldita Marco, you wasn’t even listening were you?” I could only look at Connie guiltily and he smacked a hand to his face.

“Sorry Connie.” I apologised and he sighed.

“It’s fine Marco, you look like you haven’t slept a wink, maybe you haven’t given yourself some me time in a while.” Connie supplied and I grunted in both annoyance and agreement.

“Connie, why is everything sex related with you?”

“Because it’s the one thing I know a lot about.”

“Please, I don’t want to hear about this.. now what was you saying earlier?” I asked suddenly wanting to kick Connie in the behind.

“Oh yeah that, well Sasha and I are thinking of throwing an engagement party. You know, besides our parents and a few close relatives, you and Jean are the only people who know that we’re engaged.” Connie ran a hand through the small curls atop his head and he smiled sheepishly. “I guess we wanted to be sure that this was what we wanted before we went around telling everyone, you get what I mean man?” I did understand what he meant. It wouldn’t be the first time, that I have gotten into a relationship, telling everyone in my social group only to be the only single friend by the end of the month. I’ve learnt that it’s best to keep things to myself until I am sure for definite what the status of my relationship is. I didn’t tell Connie this however I’m sure the look on my face said it all, instead I nodded.

“I think it will be a great idea.”

“Ah Marco, you think anything will be a good idea. Are you sure it’s a good idea?” Connie flicked my hand.

“Of course it is.”

“Good because you’re invited.” Connie’s mouth twisted into an almost demonic smile, in fact I’m pretty sure that there is red smoke twisting around his body and wait is that blood coming out of his eyes.

“That’s not all is it?” I questioned and Connie laughed.

“Very perspective of you Marco, no, it’s not all. Sasha and I want you to plan it.” Connie announced and I groaned. _I’ve seen the devil. He is 5”2 and full of pure evil_. “Is that too much to ask?” I could only groan in reply and Connie nodded.

“You literally only need to find a bar or club and invite people over, that’s it, in fact you could even hold it at your place.”

“Well that could actually work but I don’t think I want people throwing up I my bathroom.” Connie scratched his head in thought. “Hey what are you doing June the 16th?” Connie asked.

“That’s the day before my birthday.”

“Oh wow Marco, we should do a joint party, what’d you say amigo?” Connie held out a hand and I batted it away.

“No, no Connie, the engagement party has to be about you guys, there is no point in adding a third person to the mix.”

“Fair point, besides me and Sasha aren’t into swingers.”

“Connie.” I practically screamed and he laughed loudly beside me, I shushed him, chancing a glance at the office door.

“What you got a baby in there?” Connie asked with a raise of his eyebrows.

“Eh, something like that.” Connie’s eyes lit up with a sense of knowing.

“Well make sure you give the baby some cake and a cuddle, he’s been crying over you all week.” Connie drawled out as he stretched across the counter.

“He wasn’t that bad.”

“Amigo, I was so close to throwing a spanner at his head.”

“Please don’t do that.”

“I won’t if you buy me the first three rounds.” Connie snickered and I frowned.

“Connie.”

“June 15th, 8pm. I’ll text you the venue.” He slapped my hand once before jogging towards the door.

“You don’t have my number, take a business card.” I called after him and he shook his head.

“I’m already by the door and there’s no turning back now!” Connie called dramatically. “I’ll just ask Ymir. Chow amigo.” After the door closed behind him, I pushed away from the counter and ran towards the office. Opening the office door I peered around half expecting to see Jean sitting in the corner, a dark cloud above his head but what I saw only made me sink to my knees. Jean lay on the small sofa, his legs pulled up to his chest, the muscles from his slim legs straining against the tight fabric of his tweed suit and his white socked feet pushed into the space between the cushion of the couch but the thing that made me smile was the way he snuggled into the white parka held tightly against his body. My parka. Shutting the door silently behind me, I walked over to Jean, peering down at his face, I stifled a laugh. _Damn Jean, you look so mad even in your sleep_.

Kneeling down, I looked closer at his face, eyes scanning the sharp angles and lines of his face, the small crinkles at the corner of his eyes, the deep frown lines in his forehead and the long dark eyelashes laying against his cheek. Looking at his left ear, I noticed two piercing holes one in his helix and the other in his rook. Now that I think about it, I haven’t had the chance to just look at Jean and take in all of his features and all of the things that make him who he is.

My hand strayed to his face, my fingers a hair width away. I could touch him right now. Brush my fingers against his face. Kiss his cheek. I could do anything, he’s a deep sleeper, he wouldn’t even know. As if sensing my thoughts, I leaned closer to his jawline, tongue wetting my lips as I inhaled Jean’s scent. He smelled of sweat, yesterday’s aftershave and me, which reminds me I really need to shower and so does Jean. Not together of course but that could work. “Damn.” I clamped a hand over my mouth and a wide amber eye looked up at me.

“Marco?” Jean said hoarsely, he rolled onto his back, a fist aggressively rubbing his eyes before he levelled his gaze with mine. “How long was I out?” He asked, sitting further up onto the couch.

“Er about three hours.”

“Holy shi-” Jean’s eyes trailed down to his lap, where my coat lay and a blush rose to his cheeks. “It was cold.” He muttered sheepishly and I laughed. “It’s not funny Marco! Your office is freezing, if I had gotten frostbite, I would have sued your ass.” Jean jabbed a thin finger at my chest.

“Oh really, like you could even get this ass.” I retorted, earning a wide eyed look from Jean.

“Hey now Marco, I am one hundred percent certified in ass getting.” Jean crossed his arms and I gaped at him.

“Jean that’s not even a thing.”

“Well it’s on my fucking resume.” He shouted, as Jean usually does for reasons I don’t even know.

“Ah huh, yeah, your resume. That’s why you work for one of the best law firms in the city.” I mocked, earning a look of annoyance from Jean.

“I’ll tell you Marco, it sure helped out with the ladies in the office.” He smiled sultrily.

“Jean, that’s sexual harassment, you damn dog!” I shouted, suddenly worried for Jean’s morals. He only raised his hands up in defeat.

“Dude, I’m joking. I would never do anything as crude as that. Come on man, you know me better than that but it still doesn’t change the fact, that I am one thousand percent certified in getting ass.”

“Didn’t you just say one hundred?”

“One million.”

“Jeaaan.”

“Maaaarco.”

“Idiot!”

“That you love.” At Jean’s words, my smile faltered and a look of distress crossed his face. “Is it too soon to joke about stuff like that? I mean come on Marco, what’s a guy got to do, to make you smile?” Jean asked and I scratched my chin in thought.

“Hmmm, let me see… take me to Disneyland.” Jeans eyes widened.

“Marco, a little lower scale than that, please.”

“Hmmm, what about a puppy?” I nudged Jean and his eyes narrowed.

“What will you call it?”

“Jean.”

“No.”

“Jeeeean.” I whined. To that I received a punch in the arm. “But a German Shepard.”

“Marco, that’s racist!” Jean shouted but he couldn’t hide the smile threatening to destroy his stern façade.

“Nuh uh.” I jibed childishly and Jean grabbed both sides of my face, squishing my cheeks.

“No puppies Marco… what about a hamster?” He proposed and I stuck my tongue out.

“You can’t take a hamster for a walk Jean.” I mumbled, my voice distorted from my squished cheeks.

“Erm yes you can, just tie some rope around it and I don’t know, drag it across the floor.” Jean let go off my face and it was my turn to punch him.

“Jean! That’s animal cruelty, you big dummy.”

“Aye, well at least you’d be getting exercise.” Jean stood up and looked down at me. “Marco, I know you want to have guns like these.” Jean flexed.

“Don’t pop a blood vessel Jean because I’m pretty sure you’re just flexing bone.”

“Aye!” Jean screeched out, as I pushed him through the office door. We ended up debating what pet Jean could buy me in replacement for not having a puppy, when as I was pulling the shutters down, the thought occurred to me, that my apartment has a strict no pet rule, in the agreement and I let out the most animal like screech, earning a look not only from Jean but an elderly couple.

“Jean.” I said, as I strapped myself into the car. He hummed out a yes, his eyes locked on the passenger side mirror. “Why don’t you be my pet?” This earned Jean’s head to snap around, eyes wide.

“Dude, no, that’s gay.” He shouted.

“And calling me your daddy wasn’t.” I mused, earning a shriek from Jean as he sunk further into the seat.

“That was only a joke Marco.”

“Yeah, it totally sounded like one.” I rolled my eyes.

“Just start the damn car.” Jean ordered and I paused with the key in ignition.

“Only if you bark Jean.”

“What!?” Jean shouted.

“Bark Jean, not shout.”

“What the fuck Marco!?”

“Who’s a good boy?” I reached over, running my fingers through the hard gel slicked strands off Jean’s hair. He bristled at my touch however made no movements. “Come on, good boy, I can stay here aaaalll night.” Continuing to stroke his hair, Jean looked down at his hands.

“Ruff, ruff.” Jean mumbled and I leaned over the console, my face mere inches from his.

“You have to bark louder than that.”

“Ruff! Ruff!” Jean barked louder and I fell back into a fit of laughter. My head against the headrest, arms clutching at my stomach and my eyes squeezed shut. My stomach muscles clenched so tight I had to lean forward. I haven’t laughed like this, in a long time and the thought of it being at Jean’s expense was almost pleasurable. In fact, it was pleasurable, looking at his pale face all red from embarrassment, his lips pouted as he sulked. Another snicker escaped my lips and I was at it again, laughing as if there was no tomorrow. There was movement beside me and I was expecting to hear the door open and slam shut but instead Jean scrambled over the console, hands clawing at me and legs kicking me as he struggled to climb the console, once in the driver’s side, he put a leg on either side of mine until he was straddling me. I looked up in shock and he looked down, a serious expression on his face. He leaned down ever so slowly and I closed my eyes, unsure of what was going on. Something wet touched my face and I opened my eyes to see Jean closing his mouth with a smirk. Touching the edge of my jaw, something wet came off on my fingers.

“Did you just lick me?” I questioned, wiping at the spot aggressively.

“Well, you asked me to bark like a dog and if I’m a dog, doesn’t that make you my owner.” I nodded and Jean continued. “So what do dogs do to their owners?”

“Lick their faces.” I supplied and Jean nodded. I swallowed, my dick was already half hard and at this rate if Jean continues, he won’t only see but feel. “Jean.” I wheezed out, looking him in the eyes warily. He leant forward again and licked my left cheek. “Jean.” I whispered breathlessly. He leant forward again but I dipped my head and licked his neck making him yelp.

“Aye.” He called out but I wasn’t done, lips chasing his neck, lapping at the expanse of skin. Licks turned into kisses, kisses turned into sucking and before I knew it, Jean was breathing heavily, his hands clawing at my hair. “Marco.” His voice was barely audible over the sound of the blood rushing through my head and the beating of my heart. I bit his neck, sucking the chunk of flesh between my teeth. “Ah-a—aaah.” Jean gasped, one hand stilling in the waves of my hair. 

My body was reacting to Jean, in ways I couldn’t supress. My own feelings and needs taking control before I had the chance to think. Jean wrapped his arms around my neck and leaned forward. I wanted to push him away, I know I should have pushed him away but parts of my body were responding to Jean’s touch. Instead of pushing him away, I reached out to his jaw, pulling him closer, my lips already parting and waiting for his, the hunger that was building up inside, ready to burst out upon contact.

When I felt the chapped lips brush my own, I kissed at them hungrily, sighing in contempt as Jean returned the pressure. Opening my mouth, I darted my tongue out, prying into Jean’s closed lips for acceptance. He opened his mouth and welcomed me into his warmth. “M-marco.” Jean whispered against my lips and I silenced him by sucking his lower lip into my mouth. My hands were trailing down his back until I had a hold on his behind. It wasn’t long before Jean’s mouth was atop my own again and his hands feebly pried at the buttons on my shirt. One button, two buttons, three buttons, four and it wasn’t long until my shirt was being pushed open. A cold pale hand sliding up and down my chest, causing me to shiver from the cold contact.

While Jean stared at my chest with a hunger visible in his eyes, I reached forward, cupping the protrusion in his trousers and pressing down firmly. A whimper escaped Jean’s mouth and his eyes closed, I continued to palm at him, watching the change of expressions on his face; the twitch of his lips, the flicker of his eyes and the flutter of his breath. “Jean.” I whispered close to his ear whilst one hand pushed his shirt up to his neck and the other undid his belt. Leaning forwards I kissed him long and hard, reaching into his boxers, I held his erection stiff in my grasp. Jean’s lips faltered and it was in that moment that I knew this was wrong.

“Jean.” I gasped out, pulling my hand from out of his boxers. There was a look of panic on his face but it was soon replaced with his poker face. He leaned forward again, his lips chasing after my own. “Jean, stop it!” I shouted, a little too firmly. He looked down at me, pink lips swollen, saliva dripping down his chin, his cheeks were flushed with exertion and lust but it was his eyes, the obvious hurt and betrayal underlined in the amber hues. “It’s not what you want.” I mumbled, suddenly frustrated with my body and its conflicted feelings. Part of me wants to fuck the living life out of him against this steering wheel but the other part of me knows, this isn’t what he wants, it never was and it never will be.

“Why, Marco? Why must you assume what I want?” Jean questioned, he leaned back against the steering wheel.

“I know because, you are not gay Jean, you are the most straightest man I’ve ever seen, in fact you are the most hetero mextrosexual I’ve ever met.” I disputed, needing Jean to understand, that I am right.

“You don’t know shit, Marco. You know absolutely fuck all about me and what I want.” He spat, his hands pressing into my shoulders.

“Jean, listen to me. You are straighter than the God who created us.”

“I’m an atheist you dickhead, I wasn’t made in God’s image.” Jean retorted with a confident smile. “Now stop telling me what you think I want and fucking kiss me.”

“For fucks sake Jean!” I shouted, all rationality lost as I pushed him harder against the steering wheel. There was the sound of the horn beeping and Jean’s pained cries before the car went silent. “If we do this, no if you do this, I know you will regret it tomorrow. You might go home smiling smugly but as you tuck yourself into bed, you’re going to remember all of the filthy things I did to you and you know what, you’re going to regret every last second of it and you know how I know this.. do you Jean? No because you’re a fucking idiot, I know this because it’s not the first time it’s happened to me okay, it’s not the first I’ve slept with a guy and he woke up realising he only likes fucking pussy, that the fact that I could love and support him is overruled by the fact that I have a dick. I’m not going to put myself through that again, not for your stupid experimentation just because no girl wants to sleep with your sad ass. No way Jean, no fucking way.” I was panting by the time, I finished shouting and I couldn’t even bare to look at his face but I did anyway. His head was hung forward but that didn’t stop me from seeing the tears falling from his eyes. Yet through all of this, Jean remained on my lap, his hands still clutching at my shoulders, his erection slowly becoming limp. “I saw the look in your eyes Jean, if you weren’t comfortable with my hand in your pants, how the fuck will you cope, if we went the whole way? Look I’m going to drive you back to mine so that you can get your car. Is that okay?” I asked. Jean nodded, before climbing back over to the console. Beside me, he fixed himself back into his trousers and pulled his shirt down. I looked down at my own exposed chest and began to button the shirt back up.

The car ride was silent, save for Jean’s constant tapping of the car window. He had calmed down considerably, if you think of just how horny he was mere moments ago however I couldn’t say the same for myself, it’s been ten minutes and I’m still rock hard and to make matters worse, not only has Jean had to see me in this state but he witnessed the side of me, I prefer to keep hidden. It appears Dark Marco has continued to appear since meeting Jean. _This man, is bad for my morality_. “Jean.” He didn’t even bat an eye my way, I sighed. “Look Jean, I know this might not be the best time to talk about this but I think we both need to clear the air.” Taking a deep breath, I exhaled before continuing. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately.”

“Obviously not you.” Jean digged and I sucked in a deep breath.

“Really Jean, really.” I raised an eyebrow hoping he would argue back but all he did was continue to stare out of the window. “What you did in the theatre, back then was wrong.” This caused Jean to look my way.

“Oh right, the kiss.” Jean looked down at his hands, fisted in his lap. “Look, I didn’t think it would make you so mad, I thought it’s what you wanted… Marco, I’m not stupid, I can see the way you look at me.” I slowed the car down, parking at the side of the road. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I looked down in embarrassment, of course Jean’s noticed the way I watch him. If Armin and Eren were able to assume we were more than friends because of how I looked at him, then of course Jean would have known I felt something for him. The man’s a lawyer for Christ’s sake.

“Jean, it’s not that you kissed me. It’s why you kissed me.” I supplied and Jean looked up at me, a question plain on his face.

“Why, I kissed you.” He repeated.

“Jean, stop being so stupid. I know you took advantage of my feelings for your own benefit. I’m not stupid.” I shouted, suddenly frustrated with how dense Jean was being right this moment and even more frustrated at myself for thinking this was the time to talk about this. “Aren’t lawyers supposed to have an eye for detail?” I digged. Jean slammed his fist into the dashboard, his mouth an array of all teeth and tongue as he shouted.

“What the fuck, how did I take advantage of your feelings?” Jean shouted. I grabbed him by the shoulders and he fought back twisting in my grasp.

“You used me to make Marlo Jealous, of course that’s taking advantage of my feelings.” My voice wobbled then, emotion pouring into it thickly as I felt the tears burn my eyes.

“Marco, I-I… I’m sorry, I didn’t know you saw, I didn’t know you noticed.” Jean relaxed in my grasp, his eyes looking beyond me. I only held him tighter. “Ow, Marco you’re hurting me.” Jean cried and I couldn’t stop myself from squeezing even tighter. “Marco.” Jean called out, eyes watering, lips pulled back into a grimace. “Please.” I let go and Jean rubbed his shoulders.

“How dare you, Jean. How dare you do that to me?” I commanded and Jean sobbed quietly, hands running through his hair as he thought of an excuse.

“I don’t know, Marco. I just wanted Marlo to feel what I felt, all those years ago but then I kissed you and things didn’t feel right, I didn’t feel happy to hurt him because deep down I knew I was going to hurt you. I should have stopped the moment you kissed me back but then I couldn’t, it just felt good.” Jean flushed. “Marco, I continued to kiss you because it made me feel good.” Jean’s hand clutched at his sore shoulder and I looked away. “Tell me Marco, if I’m not gay, what is this feeling? This need to be around you, this need for you to want me. You can say I’m not gay, Marco but can you really say that I am straight?”

“Jean I, I don’t know what to say, I just wanted you to know that, what you did was wrong, regardless of whether I wanted it.” Jean stared at me long and hard, his eyes narrowed. “Just please don’t make me a tool for your experimentation.”

“Marco, I’ll never do that… I wouldn’t even think of doing something like that, please believe me. I’m sorry okay, for last week and for today.” Jean apologised. I grunted and Jean sighed looking down at his hands. “I’ve just been going through so many changes since I met you. Marco, you’re so free willed, you’re doing a job that you enjoy and I can see it in your face that you love it but I just, I just want to be free willed again, just like when I was sixteen and I painted. This job, is probably one of the best things that someone could have but the things I see in the office, the cases were I have to support the killer or the rapist, it’s taking its toll on me. I can’t keep expecting Eren to fuck up so that I can get my wages in because there is no way I’m taking another case were I have to defend a sick motherfucker, never again. Look what I’m trying to say, is ever since meeting you, I’ve felt a change within myself. Can you believe I brought a book last week, it was over five hundred words and yet I read it in two days, Marco, I don’t read books. I don’t even look at them in a store. You might not see it but you’ve changed me.” Jean exhaled before turning an amber eye my way. Thinking about it, I have noticed a change in Jean. His behaviour towards people have changed, yes he may still be a little cold but it’s obvious he has become more compassionate, besides Armin who he has always worried about, Jean has begun to worry about Eren and myself but it’s not just his behaviour, I’d be a fool if I didn’t think about the way he looks at me now, there’s always a curious look in his eyes. Curiosity towards me.

“Jean, I don’t know what to say.” I was speechless, there was absolutely nothing I could say to this confession. My inability to come up with something to help Jean made him even more frustrated, he just leaned forward and held his head in his hands.

“Marcooooooo!” Jean screeched out. He looked up with narrowed eyes. “How did you know you were gay?” I looked at Jean long and hard before turning on the engine.

“Well, as a child I never played kiss chase with the girls, if anything I’d chase after the boys, they’d think it was gross but I couldn’t see what was wrong with it. A few parents made complaints, saying that I was confusing their own kids but I was only seven, I couldn’t see what was wrong. I remember watching the girls playing with their dolls on bring your toy to school day and I’d feel so jealous because I couldn’t play with them but the thing is I didn’t want to play with the dolls, I just wanted to dress them up, its all I ever wanted to do. Hey I’m sure I’ve told you this story already.” I looked over at Jean as he soaked in this information. “To be honest, I feel my sexuality has nothing to do with the fact I wanted to design clothes and dress dolls up, I mean come on there are straight fashion designers and stylists out there, it’s just a part of who I am. Like if I was into football and spent time betting in pubs, I would still suck a dick, you know there’s nothing changing that part of me so I guess my childhood was where I began to find myself but it was secondary school were I knew for sure that I was attracted to men. Oh my God, this is going to sound so cliché but it happened in the locker room.” I shook my head, a smile on my face and Jean laughed beside me.

“Go on, share.” He pressed.

“Well, in primary school I was used to seeing the guys bodies around me, we changed together every day for P.E and a lot of them had bodies like mine but in secondary school, there were people from other schools who have grown up differently, some of the guys had already started puberty and it was all knew to me. As the years passed, I noticed an obvious difference between the guys and myself, they all catcalled the girls in the corridor whereas I walked with the girls in the corridor.”

“You hung around with girls, it can’t get any gayer than that.” Jean mused, a crooked smile on his face.

“Aye! As I was saying thanks to hanging around with a few girls, I was able to take a peep into the fashion magazines, were there were of course images of half-naked men much to my pleasure, when they weren’t looking I’d gawk over the models… I felt so naughty. I guess Jean, it’s hard to really explain how I knew I was gay, I just felt these things for guys, I couldn’t look at girls in that way, their bodies just had no appeal to me. Oh my God Jean, do you want to hear something embarrassing?” I looked towards Jean and he leaned closer an eager look in his eyes.

“What did you do?” He asked and I turned away suddenly regretting this.

“Well when I was fifteen, I got home from school early, Leonora was going out with her boyfriend so I had the house to myself, which is rare because if Leonora isn’t home, than one of my parents are so I guess you can already see where this is going.”

“Fuck, Marco you did not.” Jean pulled a hand up to his mouth.

“Well, I was horny and extremely sexually frustrated so I went onto a porn site and began watching one of my favourite videos, I was just you know, doing my thing when I was getting close and my bedroom door opened and my Madre walked in with my laundry. I was literally lying there with my legs wide open, fingers up my ass and a hand on my dick. I had never been more mortified in my life.” I could feel the embarrassment again as if I was reliving the moment.

“Oh my fucking God Marco, what did you say?!”

“Oh hi Madre, if you haven’t noticed already, I’m gay.” Jean collapsed into laughter beside me. “It’s not funny Jean, it was a very big moment to me, coming out to my mother with fingers up my ass.”

“Marco, you are amazing. You really are” Jean gasped out once he recovered. “How did your Christian mother cope with the news?”

“She told me that she baked a cake and if she knew I was having so much fun, she would have brought up a slice. I’m just so thankful that she could approach the subject as a joke. I mean, I knew deep down that it bothered her but I’m glad that she didn’t disown me, the way I would have expected. It was really hard for her at first, especially since I made her promise to not tell Padre. I could see it eating away at her.” I exhaled and Jean’s eyes softened. I was parking into my driveway but I made no movement to leave the car.

“Marco, I’m sorry for throwing myself on you earlier. I honestly have no idea of what came over me.” Jean scratched at his undercut, a shy smile on his face. “Look I should probably head home, I smell awful.”

“You don’t smell that bad.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them and Jean’s smile widened.

“Well, well Marco, I didn’t pin you for the type to like the smell of my day old balls sweat.” Jean raised an eyebrow and I scrunched up my face in disgust.

“Jean that’s disgusting.”

“Just telling you how it is man.” Jean opened up the car door and I followed shortly behind locking it up. We walked slowly towards the Impala, Jean complaining about how unclean he felt but I could only think about the way he seemed to fit perfectly on my lap. As I edged closer to the Impala, a quiet mewling caught my attention, hesitating I stopped, bending down to look beneath the car.

“Jean.” I whispered. He turned around, looking down at me.

“What is it?”

“Hold on a second.” I mumbled as I reached under the impala. The small furry body huddled further away but I continued to reach underneath the car until I could feel the fur beneath my fingers. The body was cold, the fur doing nothing to keep them warm. “Jean look.” I said quietly, as I emerged from behind the car, a small white and brown kitten in my hands.

“Ew Marco, put that thing down, it might have flees.” Jean wrinkled his nose in disgust, moving further away from me.

“Oh come on Jean, it’s a kitten, if we leave it out here, it’ll die.”

“That’s the game of life, Marco. Survival of the fittest.” Jean said matter of factly. I take it all back, Jean hasn’t changed at all. I held the kitten close to my chest, looking Jean in the eyes long and hard. “Oh no you don’t.” Jean mumbled, his mouth suddenly slack as he looked down at the kitten in my hands and back up at my face. “Marco, don’t you dare.” Jean raised a finger jabbing it in the space between us.

“Jean Kirstein, will you do the honours of taking this kitty home with you?” I asked and Jean screeched into his hands.

“Marco, no. I can’t even look after a goldfish, how am I supposed to look after a kitten?” He asked, voice muffled by his hands.

“Oh Jean, you won’t have to look after them, I’ll do that all for you.”

“Eh.” Jean lowered his hands.

“I can come down and check on the kitty.”

“Everyday?”

“Yeah.”

“Three times a day.”

“Erm… yeah.”

“You swear, you’ll look after this cat if I take it back with me.”

“I swear.” Moving the kitten to one hand, I saluted.

“Ohkay but you have to come back with me right now.” Jean grabbed my arm and I yelped. Pushing me towards the passenger’s side, jean slapped my back. “Get that ass inside now.” He demanded before running round to the other side. “If that thing shits on my black flooring, I will kill you.” Jean shouted, earning myself and the kitten to jump. "We should probably go to supermarket and pick up some stuff for it anyway."

"Jean, don't call them an it." I hissed at him and the kitten snuggled up closer to me.

"Well what is _it_?"

"Jeeeeeeean." I shouted frustrated but curiosity was picking away at me so I lifted the kittens body close to my face. "I'm not sure how to tell."

"Well does _it_ have a dick or not?" Jean asked impatiently. I turned to Jean, looking him full on. The smile lines by his eyes were deep and his mouth was twisted into its usual confident smirk. He was doing this on purpose and he was enjoying it. Why is it that I'm attracted to such an idiot, an idiot who kissed me, an idiot who was eager to undress me, an idiot who is my friend. I looked at the kitten in my hands and they stared back, their eyes big and black. _Kitten, I almost slept with my best friend today, is that bad?_ I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping the kitten would somehow get my message telepathically. The kitten squirmed in my grasp. _I take that as a yes then_. Looking over at Jean, I could only wonder, did he really want to sleep with me? Was it all a delusion in his head? But the most important question of them all is, if we did go any further than kissing, would he still be here tomorrow? Sighing I held the kitten against my chest. _One day Jean, one day._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ohkay, the very last paragraph was a little rushed, apologies.
> 
> I know a few of you wanted some action and I think this qualifies as action, amirite! but in all seriousness, have you ever just doubted your sexuality, you meet someone and you just kinda go "Holy fucking shit, you're awesome." because let me tell you one thing, I have... everyday, fucking tumblr man.
> 
> Anyway do you think this is just experimentation for Jean or do you think he actually has begun to feel things for Marco? Do you think his sex deprivation has resulted in him craving the Bodt butt? What is the gender of little Kitty? Will Marco name little kitty Jean, if they are a boy? Well I guess y'all are just going to have to wait to find out.


	8. Interruptions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco learns that sometimes it's ohkay to break down the boundaries and Jean realises he has no boundaries at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [I'm baaaaaaaaack](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NeBjhpw_Ee0)
> 
>  
> 
> Hey guys, it's been a long time and I'm sorry that the story was just left at an awkward place but I was struggling with my workload at uni. It got to the point where I was having organise photo-shoots, help script for my TV Drama, put on an event for my year and still do several essay's.
> 
> This year has been insane and I'm glad that I can actually write again and furthermore catch up on all the fics that I haven't been able to read.
> 
> I actually had to reread areas of this because it's been so long so I hope that it makes sense.

_The tweed blazer jacket hung across his shoulder, the pockets hitting against his behind as he sauntered around the convenience store with his ease. The click clack of his brogues against the linoleum floor as he walked, filled Marco with comfort as he followed the blonde around the store. Jean would turn around every so often, his eyes constantly searching for the kitten who only struggled in Marco’s grasp, much to Jean’s annoyance. He would make snide remarks about how the pair should have left the kitten behind for nature to deal with and yet even as he complained about the kitten, his eyes would light up whenever he saw Marco smiling down at the bundle of fur._

_Marco on the other hand was infatuated with the kitten and was oblivious to the looks of affection Jean was displaying towards him. This was partly due to the fact his mind was running over everything Jean had said and the brunette was too afraid to meet those hazel eyes. Jean’s words were still fresh on Marco’s ears as if he had only whispered them mere moments ago. There was nothing that could convince Marco that Jean may have been telling the truth about his feelings and as clichéd as he’d hate for this too sound, Marco was too hung up on the past to believe that not all men are the same. Wrinkling his nose in disgust, Marco backpedalled on his thoughts not all straight men are the same. Sighing Marco buried his head in the fur within his arms._

_When Marco did muster the courage to look up, the blonde had stopped in front a pink food bowl. “Oh man, don’t they at least have a black bowl. This is going to ruin the aesthetic.” Jean complained, running two hands down his cheeks slowly. Marco sighed again but he couldn’t fight the urge to grin._

_“Scared of a little pink?” Marco teased. Jean snorted nonchalantly, reaching for the bowl with a confident smirk. Marco blinked in surprise and there was a look of accomplishment on Jean’s face. The blonde grabbed another bowl before wondering over to the food, he was about to reach for a pack of dry food when Marco shouted, making Jean and the kitten jump._

_“No Jean, it has to be wet food, they’re still a baby after all.” Marco said lowering his voice down a few octaves and apologising to the other customers on the aisle red-faced, turning back to Jean he nodded at the pack of Whiskas in his hand. “That’s perfect… now can we go, I’m afraid kitty is going to wee themselves.” Jean snickered and Marco pursed his lips._

_“You wouldn’t have to worry about getting wet, if you left them to nature.” Jean continued delving into his speech about the survival of the fittest whilst Marco argued back and kitty, well they wished they hadn’t stumbled across these stupid humans._

* * *

 

 

“Aaaaaaah” Jean threw himself onto his sofa, stretching his legs out with a big yawn. I walked in behind him, lowering the kitten to the ground. Jean looked at the kitten once before turning his head with a _tsk_ and crossing his arms.

“Thank you so much Jean, you are a hero.” I praised but Jean _tsked_ again, crossing his arms even tighter. “Well I’m going into the kitchen to set little kitty up.” Turning from Jean, I crouched down to collect the bags, Jean abandoned on his way in and wondered into the kitchen. Dumping the contents on the black counted, I nodded at the supplies. After we brought the two pink bowls and cat food, we drove to the local pet store and picked a black bed much to Jean’s delight and a black litter tray much to Jean’s distaste. _“Shit shouldn’t have to look so good in my aesthetic.”_ Jean had said. “What an idiot.” I giggled.

“Who’s an idiot?” I jumped at the sound of his voice and turned to see Jean, leaning in the doorway, the kitten running in behind him. “Argh.” Jean shouted, the kitten biting his feet playfully. “Marco get this thing of me.” Jean ordered and I nodded, walking over and picking the kittens claws from off his socks.

“Somebody seems afraid of cats.” I teased.

“Somebody will leave this cat to the foxes.” Jean said cruelly and I balked.

“Jean no, you wouldn’t do that… would you?” I asked drawing the kitten closer to me.

“And break your heart, I couldn’t do that.” Jean smiled and I breathed out in relief. “So what is it?” Jean asked and I scrunched up my brows, pulling the kitten towards my face. Staring intently I looked over the furry stomach until my eyes spotted what I was looking for.

“She.”

“Well at least you can’t call her Jean now.” Jean crossed his arms with a smirk.

“Jean is a unisex name, Jean.” I stated bluntly and Jean coughed. “But I guess that’s pronounced Jan and not John but still it’s a girly name, I could call kitty Gene.”

“Marco, no.” Jean covered his face with his hands.

“Okay, Mr no fun… I’ll think of something.” Lowering the kitten to the ground again. I walked towards the counter and began preparing the kittens food; pouring water into one bowl and scooping out some of the Whiskas into the other. As I stood there sorting out the kittens stuff, I felt the burn of eyes on me and I swallowed, trying to quench down the feeling that Jean wasn’t looking at the kittens stuff with curiosity but at me.

* * *

 

 

It was nearing ten, when I stood up from the sofa, Cookie fast asleep in my arm. Jean looked up from his phone, a worry line between his brows. “You going?” He asked as I lowered the kitten to the sofa. “If you’re tired, you can sleep in my bed, the sheets are fresh.”

“You sure?” I raised an eyebrow and Jean nodded.

“Sure but please get out of those filthy clothes.” Jean turned to Cookie and wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“Jheeze Jean, I didn’t realise you wanted to see me naked that bad.” I teased light heartedly but instantly regretted it when Jean turned away. “I’ll grab some of your stuff.” Grabbing my phone, I walked out of the living room and up the stairs to Jean’s room. Sifting through his drawers, I found a worn out ACDC t-shirt that was covered in frayed edges, cigarette burns and questionable stains. _He really was a punk_. Grabbing a dark green tank top, I undressed and ducked under the covers and into the warmth. It wasn’t long before I was out cold.

When I woke up, I could hear Jean breathing heavily behind me. Shuffling out of bed, I stretched and headed for the kitchen. At the door, I heard mewling and when I peered down, I saw the shadow of four paws padding along the floor.

Inside, I petted Cookie’s back until she was relaxed, filling her bowls with fresh food and water, I stood up with a sigh. “I should probably get some food on the go.” Flicking the radio on, I almost screamed with delight as I heard Lana Del Rey’s voice. I washed my hands and prepped the sides, I’m not the most cleanest of people when it comes to housework but I do try. Opening the cupboards, the happiness disappeared as I stared at the almost empty cupboards. “Dammit Jean, how many times do I need to tell you to stock up your cupboards.” Shutting the cupboard doors, I looked down at Cookie with my hands on my hips. “What are we going to do with him?” Cookie only munched down her food, oblivious to my frustration. “Well at least one of us is eating.” My stomach growled loudly and Cookie turned, a look of understanding on her face, well I hope its understanding. _I guess it’s time for a grocery run_.

* * *

 

 

Strolling through the store, I was having a hard time finding the items I wanted. The only other time I came here was with Jean so I tried my best to remember the aisles from memory. It was when I arrived in the vegetable aisle, that I was stumped. _What vegetables does Jean hate? He’s a fussy eater. What if he doesn’t like olives?_ I could only stare at the aubergine in my hand with confusion “He just doesn’t look like the aubergine kind of guy.” Looking away from the aubergine, my eyes landed on a woman bending down, her hair brown hair was tied into a ponytail and she grunted as she heaved the sack of potatoes into her trolley. When she finally turned breathing heavily, I was given a shocked but warming smile.

“Mark!” Sasha shouted and I sighed, will she ever get my name right.

“Sasha, what are you doing here?” I asked, as I walked towards her, she opened her arms wide and I hugged her, almost lifting her off the ground.

“This is my local grocery store, if anything I should be asking you but you don’t need to tell me, there’s only one reason why you’d up in this part of town.” Sasha winked, nudging me in the side with her elbow. “How is lover boy? I haven’t heard from him since he finished the case with the Problem Child.”

“Jean’s been fine, he’s been helping me out in the store on a few occasions, well I can’t really call it helping out, it’s more like he’s eating my lunch and making my office smell like Paco Rabanne whilst simultaneously distracting me from my job.”

“Oh God, I know the feel, I always hated the days when we had separate lunch breaks because he’d always come in and disturb me whilst I tried to put together a case study but he wouldn’t be Jean, if he didn’t seek the attention of those around him. He’s like a giant kitten.”

“He is isn’t he?” I smiled thinking of Cookie trying to get Jean’s attention. “So, how’s the fiancé?”

“Oh Con, he’s a little stressed, his shifts at the mechanics went up whilst the boy, what’s his name again?”

“Eren.” I supplied and Sasha slapped her thigh.

“That’s it! Well Eren the boy, when he had his court dates, Connie’s shifts suddenly became Eren’s shifts but besides the extra work he’s fine. I hardly see him in the nights now though because he gets back so late and to make things worse I’m always up before him and asleep before him. I just hope that this change doesn’t impact on our relationship.” From the shock of the deepness of her words, I could only stare at Sasha with my mouth agape, what do you tell someone who is drifting away from her fiancé.

“Sasha, don’t worry about it, I mean if I told you why he is coming home so late, let’s just say it won’t be a _surprise_.” Sasha’s eye lit up at the words surprise and she smiled a wide smile.

“Oh no, don’t tell me, you and Connie are organising something special behind my back. When I told Connie to ask you, I thought you’d turn him down for sure but man was I wrong.” She raised an eyebrow and I swallowed, my throat suddenly feeling dry.

“Well…” _I guess I am._ “…I wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise and on that note I should probably disappear before I reveal me and Connie’s plans of world domination, oooops to late.” Sasha snorted loudly and with a wave of my hand, it was my cue to leave. _Damn, now I have to help Connie with this party_.

 

* * *

 

 

When I returned, paper bags in my arms, the house was deathly silent, raising an eyebrow I headed for the kitchen. Unpacking the bags on the counter, I picked up the peppers and began preparing lunch. It was when I was mixing the quiche mixture, that the kitchen door opened and a tired looking Jean strolled in. Cookie, stumbled out of her bed, before running towards Jean’s socks, attacking them playfully. Jean only groaned, a hand rubbing his arms aggressively.

“Good afternoon sleepyhead.” I smiled brightly.

“Hey, you look good in my clothes.” I looked down at myself, only just remembering why the jeans I was wearing were not only black but extremely tight.

“Well I couldn’t go to the grocery store in a suit… Jean.” I put the bowl aside and walked up towards him. Jean adverted his gaze but I reached across and grabbed his jaw, pulling his face back to mine. “Oh Jean.” I gasped and he smiled a small smile. The area around Jean’s eyes had a pinkish tint, almost red in places and his eyelids were slightly puffy. It wouldn’t have been noticeable to a stranger but I know Jean’s face and I’ve never seen his eyes like this. “What happened?”

“I’m a-” Jean sneezed loudly, spraying my face with droppings of spit. “Oh man, I’m so sorry.” Jean’s mouth stretched into a wide grin as he tried to fight back a laugh, I on the other hand was still standing their stunned. “Hey.” Lifting his t-shirt over his head, Jean dried my face. There wasn’t a lot of spit on my face for him to remove his shirt but I wasn’t complaining. When he lowered the shirt, I could see faint patches of pink dotting his chest and shoulders. Noticing my curious stares, Jean rubbed a hand through his hair. “I’m allergic to glycoprotein.” I blinked and Jean rolled his eyes. “It’s something made in a cat’s saliva or something.”

“You are allergic to cats… why, why didn’t you say so?” I asked, Jean only smiled.

“Because, you looked happy and I fucked up so I wanted to make it up to you.”

“Jeeeeeeeeeean, you dummy.” I punched his side and he pushed me against the counter, my lower back connected with the edge causing me to wince, at the look of my discomfort Jean smirked and stepped forwards. On his next step, I took the opportunity to grab him, pinning him to my chest and before I knew it, we were wrestling. I have to admit, pushing aside the fact that Jean is small in built, he was actually putting up a fight. “Holy cow.” I hissed, as Jean kicked my shin, giving him the opportunity to slip out of my grasp, I hadn’t recovered when his knee connected with my stomach, taking the breath from out of me but I did recover when he lifted his knee up the second time, I reached around and grabbed the back of his knee. Jean’s eyes widened and his body shook.

“Fuck you Marco!” He shouted as he placed his hand against the counter to balance himself. Running my fingers along the back of Jean’s knee again, the muscles in his stomach tensed and it all became clear. Smiling, I held Jean’s raised leg in one hand and began to tickle the back of his knee with my other hand. “Marco, you fucking asshole.” Jean practically screamed and I laughed.

“I would never have imagined that you out of all people would be ticklish.” I dropped Jean’s leg and he stood up, adjusting his boxers.

“I’m not ticklish.” Jean mumbled, his eyebrows drawing together. The look was something that a child would do and I suddenly thought of young Jean. _I bet this is the kind of thing he would do_.

“Oh really, something tells me that you are lying.”

“Leck mich am Arsch” Jean spoke the words confidently and confusion hit me. _What a cheat, swapping to native languages, knowing I can’t speak a word of it_.

“Come si chiama quella cosa in italiano?” I smiled, wondering if Jean would understand that.

“Oh I see what you’re doing and I’m not going to ask what you said.” Jean crossed his arms.

“Oh really, I know you are just dying to ask what I said.” I stepped forward and Jean’s jaw tensed.

“Ohkay, whoever gets knocked to the floor first, has to say what they said.” Jean challenged and I sighed.

“Or, we can be mature and just tell each other.”

“Three.” Jean began counting.

“You know you make things-“

“Two.”

“Harder for yourself.”

“One!” Jean ran forward and I ducked to the left, my eyes looking for Cookie. I spotted the kitten sleeping in her bed and I swallowed down the relief. I can’t step on you Kitty, promise me you’ll stay in bed. Jean’s eyes were on my face, he never looked away, the pressure was too much for me to bare.

“I’m gonna forfeit.” I raised my hands and Jean roared.

“No, we are doing this like men.” He charged towards me, I stepped to the right, sticking my leg out. Jean tripped and I pushed him. Falling to the ground, he rolled onto his back but before he could stand up I crouched down and pinned him to the floor. “Fuck!” Jean shouted.

“You see, we could have settled this, the easy way.” Kicking my leg to the side I straddled Jean, putting all of my weight on him. “So jean what did you say?” Jean only shook his head at my question.

“It was nothing.”

“If it was nothing, you would tell me. Come on Jean, tell meeeeeeee.” I whined and Jean sighed. His hazel eyes stared into my own.

“I told you to lick my ass.” My eyebrows raised and Jean rubbed his eyes with his only free hand.

“Hey stop rubbing your eyes, you’ll only make the allergies worse… now why was it so hard to tell me that?” I asked whilst prying his hand from his eye.

“Well at first, I said it as an insult but then I remembered that you are- you know and well that’s what gay guys do right.” Jean’s eyebrows pulled together and I snickered. “Why are you laughing?” The laughter bubbled out of my throat, loud and low. “Oh my God Marco, you dick, stop laughing.

“I’m sorry, I’m-“ I looked at Jean’s red face and the laughter started back up. “Jean, I just wow. Heterosexual men are so bizarre. Did you think I was going to actually take you up on your offer?”

“It wasn’t an offer.” Jean screeched out, his lower body pushing upwards, rocking me slightly.

“Now, now Jean. Licking ass isn’t exclusively a gay thing, I can assure you any sexual orientation can lick ass, well I say lick ass but I’m sure we are both thinking about eating ass, am I right?” Jean nodded. “So Jean, do you want me to eat your ass?” I wasn’t sure where this confidence was coming from but I was revelling in Jean’s discomfort, this feeling was similar to that moment in the car when Jean was straddling me, I was teasing him just like now but this time it’s different, Jean’s lying on the floor with me on top of him. It’s been a while since I’ve been on top of someone and even though this is merely a game, I’m going to enjoy every second of having my ass pressed against his… dick. _Damn, he’s hard_. “Jean.”

“Don’t say a word.” Jean’s eyes narrowed and I had to supress the excitement welling up. “Besides, it’s not the first time something like this has happened.” Jean whispered, his voice low. My eyes were drawn to his, the hazel darker now that there was no direct light hitting the iris and because of this looking into his eyes was like looking at an entirely different person. I wonder what the colour of his eyes would be once he’s lustful and horny.

Time passed by, the clock ticking in the silent kitchen. The heaving of Jean’s chest was accompanied by the sound of his heavy breathing, the air passing through his lips as he looked up at me. His eyes narrowed, a look of discomfort crossing his face before he sneezed loudly, a spray of spit dotting his bare chest. Jean’s head turned to the left where Cookie sat starting at him, licking her tiny paw. “Cockblocked by a cat.” Jean winked at me and I used that as my cue to get up and Jean followed shortly.

“Well, if you say so.” I could feel the blood, hot in my cheeks.

“So what is this?” Jean asked, pointing to the bowl on the side.

“The quiche.” I shouted, shooing him aside so I could grab the bowl. “I was going to make some lunch for us.”

“Well don’t stop Marco, chop chop.” Jean clapped his hands. “I’m going to take a shower.”

“Don’t slip and fall.”

“I’ll try not to,” Jean shouted, as the door shut behind him.

 

* * *

 

 

“ _I was happy in the haze of a drunken hour but heaven knows I'm miserable now. I was looking for a job, and then I found a job and heaven knows I'm miserable now_ …” Jeans hips swayed as he rocked side to side, his slender torso visible every time he raised his arms. Soap and bubbles spraying the floor and sides. “…In my life why do I give valuable time to people who don't care if I live or die…” Jean sang out, the sound, low and throaty. When he turned fork in hand, I caught another eyeful of that pale stomach. Jean outstretched his arm and Cookie and I flinched as soap assaulted us.

“Jean!” I whined. Placing Cookie on the chair, I walked over to the sink. “Splash me one more time and I’m going to-” Jean grabbed my jaw with his soapy hand and I got a mouthful of bubbles, he grabbed the sponge with his other hand and raised it above my head. I could only close my eyes as the warm water trickled down my face and the back of my head, soaking my neck and shoulders. When Jean released his grasp on my jaw, I coughed instantly. Gathering my composure, I blinked away the water and when I felt it was safe, I gingerly opened my eyes to peer down at Jean.

Jean stood before me, his hands resting on the counter on either side of my hips, his mouth was slightly agape, lips wet and his eyes, oh how they looked at me. He took one step closer and I could feel the heat of his breath against the base of my throat. I swallowed once, Jean tilted his head upwards. I swallowed twice, something wet touched the corner of mouth. I opened my mouth and that was all the invitation Jean needed to kiss me. Jean’s tongue, was hot inside of my mouth and I moaned, the sound was muffled but the meaning was clear, I want Jean, I want him now. A wet hand held onto my jaw, pulling me closer.

Pulling away, I grabbed Jean by the shoulders and pushed him away gently so that I could remove my t-shirt, the damp fabric was sticking to my skin and I was happy to be rid of it. “Now where were we?” I asked. Jean pulled his t-shirt over his head and dropped it onto the floor beside my own.

“Turn around.” He commanded and I obliged, turning to rest my hands on the counter. A wet finger trailed down my spine and I shivered. The finger continued to travel along my body, more fingers joining in their exploration. Lips pressed against my back, gentle in their touches so gentle I had to bite my lips. The sexual tension between Jean and myself, is immense, anyone can see it but these touches aren’t those of a senseless moment between friends, no these are the touches of someone in love. I closed my eyes, in a bid to push aside those thoughts. “Marco...” Jean whispered against my back, his hands undoing my belt. “...Tell me.” My zip was zipped down. “How this...” A hand went inside of my boxers, grasping my shaft. “...Feels?” and then I gasped from the sudden unexpected contact. Biting my lips I thought to remain silent, there is no way I am going to become undone in front of Jean and it seems that this stubbornness, only spurred him on more as his pace quickened and I suddenly found myself whimpering into my hand. I was useless against Jean.

I wasn’t sure when the temperature changed. The only indicator was the salty tang of my sweat mingling with the dishwater that trickled down my lips and as I stood there, hands gripping onto the countertop, I realised several minutes has passed. My body was beginning to burn up, the heat of my arousal reaching its peak. _If Jean doesn’t take me right here, right now, my body will spontaneously combust_. Placing my hand on Jean’s wrist, his movements stilled and I could practically hear the gears turning in his brain, I mean what man would stop someone from stroking them to completion. I am that man sadly. Peering over my shoulder, I looked Jean dead in the eye.

“More, Jean I want more.” There was a couple of seconds after my plea, where I began to think Jean didn’t understand but no sooner than his eyes widened they were back to their narrow slits.  
“How do you want to do this?” He asked stepping away from me and walking to the cupboard. I had no idea of what I should do, this is a kitchen for crying out loud, I’m sure a sane person wouldn’t even pull their dick out in here, let alone have sexual relations. As I looked around frantically, my dick straining against the side of the counter, it occurred to me that sometimes, it’s okay to play dirty.

When Jean turned around, a bottle of olive oil in his hand, his mouth could only drop open and well, I couldn’t blame him seeing as I was sitting atop the counter my legs spread wide open exposing the parts of my body I never thought Jean would see, jeans and boxers dangling from my left leg and a hand against my mouth, covering the blush that crept onto my cheeks. Now is not the time to lose the confidence Marco but every second that passed, I was slowly filled with the fear that Jean would awaken from his senses and run a mile away. No this is Jean’s house, if anything I’ll be kicked to curb, ass out and all.

“I-.” Jean blinked owlishly, hazel eyes peeking through his lashes. “I just- wow Marco, wow.” I wasn’t sure if this was the moment were I was supposed to get up and run or say something seductive.

“Well, are you just going to stand there?” I went with the latter, saying the words as calmly as I could, trying my best to keep this confident composure.

“When you say it like that.” Jean stepped forward. “It just makes me.” The bottle of the olive oil popped open. “Want you…” Olive oil coated those slender fingers. “….more.”

“Fuck.” Jean’s eye widened and I clasped my other hand to my mouth. The words were already out of my lips. Jean has corrupted me. A hand grabbed a hold of my ass, playfully and I giggled, earning a raised eyebrow from Jean, I could only smile as I anticipated the moment were our barriers will be completely broken. Oil covered fingers rubbed at my entrance and I reached for his shoulders on impulse. “Please don’t tease me.” I practically begged and Jean pulled his hand away, I pouted. “Please Jean.”

“I can’t say no to that face.” A finger returned, the tip testing, daring to go in further. Jean looked up at me and I rolled my eyes impatiently. When he did slide his finger inside, I gasped. “How does that feel?”

“Okay.”

“Only okay.” Jean raised an eyebrow, his finger curling upwards. His face a mask of smugness as he knew this wasn’t just okay, this was incredible. Pulling out, when his index finger returned it wasn’t alone, I gritted my teeth preparing for two fingers. It’s been a while since I’ve been fingered, when I’ve masturbated it’s usually been a quick fumble so that the only part of my body that got worshipped was my dick. Looking down at Jean, he had an expression I’ve never seen before.

“Jean, how is this for you?” I asked.

“God, it’s so different to a pussy, your ass is just sucking my fingers in.” Jean looked up then and it was clear to me, that his expression was discovery. I couldn’t help but giggle. “What’s so funny Marco?” his eyebrows lowered.

“You just look like you’ve discovered an amazing artifact.”

“Well, I can’t deny that, I mean your ass is pretty amazing.” A hand went to my dick, stroking in quick fluid motions, the rhythm matching the thrusts of his fingers.

“Ah, Jean.” I flushed, hands reaching for his shoulders. “How are you so good at this?”

“I am the fingerbanging champion.”

“Jean, you are a loser.” I shouted, my face growing redder by the second. Jean leaned forward, lips brushing mine.

“I want to fuck you Marco.” He whispered against my lips.

“Please.” The words were stolen by Jean’s kiss. It was deep and long, his hands sticky with oil, caressed my thighs and legs.

“Shit, I need a condom.” Jean cursed after pulling away, hands gripping my thighs tight.

“I-er ha, I am clean if you’re worried about that, I mean I no it’s important to be pro-“

“Shhhhhh Marco, you think too much.” Jean cut me off. Stepping back he undid the button of his jeans before pulling them and his boxers down, he didn’t step out of his clothes but shuffled forward awkwardly. I bit my lip, holding back a laugh. Jean reached for the olive oil. “You know we probably should have got some lube.”

“I’m sure my ass can handle it.”

“I was more worried about my dick. What if this shit burns.” Jean laughed and I punched his arm.

“Hey, you wasn’t worried when you practically poured that into my ass.”

“Fair point.” Jean pointed the bottle at my face.

“My points are always fair.”

“I have to agree with that. Does your ass burn?”

“No.”

“Well it’s gonna in a couple of seconds.” Jean winked and I went to punch him again. Jean caught my hand and pulled me up against him. His lips roamed my jaw and then my neck. It was all too much, my body was beyond boiling point. I could feel the pressure of the head of his penis as he lined it up against my ass.

"Hold on a second." Jean paused and I pushed two fingers inside of myself, scissoring and stretching my hole to make it easier, once I felt it was good enough, I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him tighter. “Ah.” I cried against the top of Jean’s head, his hair muffling my cries. This is it, the moment when Jean finally takes me, the moment I’ve wanted ever since I saw him in my store on that opening event. “Jean.” I whispered his name, he edged in further, an inch of him buried in me and then the doorbell rang. Jean stilled, his body tense. He looked up at me hazel eyes narrowed, he pulled a finger to his lips and I nodded my head, covering my mouth. Jean pushed in further and I squeezed my eyes shut, gasping into my hand. “Jean, I can’t… I can’t be silent.” I whined and Jean sighed.

“Marco you-“ The sound of keys rattling. “Did you put the chain back on the door?” was all Jean asked, my eyes widened and he already knew the answer. I looked at Jean and stared back at me, I could see that his body was longing for more and I myself was yearning for Jean to be deep inside of me. This wasn't enough, this wasn't how I wanted our first time to be. _First time, I'm surprised I even got this far, God knows how long before Jean gets a reality check and leaves me_. Yet even as I thought this, Jean hadn't moved away and his grasp on me was protective but deep down inside we both knew this couldn't continue because any minute now, someone will be walking through that front door and this, this is a sight the faint hearted should never see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who on earth can that be? Is it Jean's mother? Maybe an ex that still has the key? Well you guys will just have to wait and see.
> 
> This chapter was a little shorter than usual and that's because it's been separated into two parts. I'm currently working on the second half and it should be up shortly and by shortly that could be tomorrow or next week but it will be up because I'm halfway finished.
> 
> Apologies again for leaving this for so long and I know this chapter isn't enough to redeem me.
> 
> Translations:
> 
> Jean says "Leck mich am Arsch" which is "Lick my ass" as you heard Jean say and Marco retorts with "Come si chiama quella cosa in italiano?" which is "What's That Called In Italian?".
> 
> I hope these translations are correct and written in the right context for I am merely an English speaking citizen with no knowledge of speaking other languages, let alone write them.
> 
> If there are any mistakes within the fic, feel free to tell me.

**Author's Note:**

> As usual Critique will be helpful.
> 
> *Next chapter on Friday's (or whenever I actually finish it)*


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